


language barriers

by rievu



Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: F/M, as to how they managed to translate shelesh in-game, because there is no reasonable explanation, that quickly even with SAM's help
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2019-10-02 16:55:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 78,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17267864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rievu/pseuds/rievu
Summary: “My calculations indicate that your conclusion of evisceration is 29% unlikely to happen, Pathfinder. However, the statistical significance of this calculation is low. We do not have enough information to conclude anything definitive about the angaran language,” SAM says.“Wonderful,” Ryder grumbles. “Absolutely wonderful.”// a different take on how the pathfinder overcomes shelesh language barriers in heleus





	1. first contact

**Author's Note:**

> i firmly believe that it was nearly impossible to establish communication and translation devices that fast on aya without some good-natured fumbling.

So, this is going to be the day when Sara Ryder officially gets eviscerated by aliens.

Fantastic.

This really isn’t what was advertised when the Andromeda Initiative was first established. This isn't what she expected at all. Actually, Ryder revises that statement in her head. She expected difficulties with the new alien species in Heleus. She just didn’t expect the wild environments, the massive webs of dark energy or whatever it was that spanned the galaxy, a comatose brother, and… The last thought catches in her mind like a jagged hook. A dead father. Oh, and also, miserable language barriers that SAM can't even parse.

She lets out a long sigh and leans back against the cold wall of the cell the new aliens kept her in. She can see in the cell opposite from her through the bars of her door. Liam looks like he was sleeping. Poor guy, he deserves some rest. Ryder gets up and paces to the door, looking out from her cell. The angara guards posted to her door stiffen when she approaches, but she makes no sound. She only looks out, hoping to check on the rest of her crew. Vetra is next to Liam’s cell, and even though she can’t quite see, she knows that Cora is directly next to hers. Kallo, Suvi, and the others are further down the hall, out of sight but not out of mind.

Based on her calculations — which were mostly just her asking SAM — she’s been in this cell for three days now. When they landed on Aya, they were immediately captured and placed in a cell while three angara — one blue, two purple — discussed their fates. The second and third days were full of poking and prodding from angaran researchers. They took her measurements and examined every part of her that there was to examine. The researchers did stop at Ryder’s crotch when she let out a loud squawk of embarrassment. They actually flushed deep blue, and judging from SAM’s temperature readings, they were just as embarrassed as Ryder.

Ryder sighs once more before she turns and sits back down in her usual place. There aren’t a lot of options here in this tiny cell, but she has different places already named in her head. The Right Corner of Doom, the Left Corner of Misery, the Place Right Next To The Door, and the Shadowy Place for Conversations with SAM. The Shadowy Place for Conversations with SAM is the place for tonight, and she sits down, curling up into a ball and leaning against the wall.

“Hey, SAM?” she whispers quietly.

The AI activates inside her brain and she hears his modulated voice reply, “Yes, Pathfinder?”

“These… Angara. They’re going to come back for me tonight, yeah?” she asks.

SAM replies, “Affirmative, Pathfinder. Based on my analyzation of their body movements, tonal range, and limited knowledge on their language we know thus far, that is my conclusion.”

“Thanks, SAM,” she mumbles before tilting her head back to stare at the ceiling. “Hey, this might be the first time I get eviscerated by aliens or something like that.”

“I do not think you will get eviscerated, Pathfinder,” SAM answers.

She swears that SAM sounds more human with each passing day. Maybe part of Ryder’s personality is wearing off on him now. _Terrifying_ , Ryder thinks. _Maybe he’ll get to the point of sarcasm, and then, I’ll really be screwed._ Having a sarcastic AI in your head every single day was not a positive prospect. Ryder squints her eyes and says dryly, “So is that something you’re saying to make me feel better or something that you’re sure of?”

“My calculations indicate that your conclusion of evisceration is 29% unlikely to happen, Pathfinder. However, the statistical significance of this calculation is low. We do not have enough information to conclude anything definitive about the angaran language,” SAM says.

“Wonderful,” Ryder grumbles. “Absolutely wonderful.”

As she stares aimlessly up at the ceiling, she finally hears the sound of footsteps coming towards her cell. The angara have deeper voices than she expects, and the low rumbles, grunts, and smooth syllables all blend together to form a beautiful and absolutely incomprehensible mixture of sounds that neither Ryder or her translator understood. It still infuriates her a little bit. She understands nothing, but SAM makes his best guesses for her. She can do this. She’s adaptable. It’s like working at a Prothean dig site or something like that with incomprehensible dead languages, but this time, the people speaking the language are most definitely alive. Also, she is most definitely in more danger than at any dig site back in the Milky Way.

They open the door, and Poncho comes in to get her. Ryder raises her hand in a friendly wave at Poncho before mimicking a gesture that she’d seen other angara use frequently when first seeing each other. She raises her hand a little higher before mimicking the shoulder tap that they did. Honestly, it reminds her of a bro-hug back in the Milky Way, but if it worked for angara, it should work for her. Judging by Poncho’s expression, he seems slightly stunned.  

“How’s that, Poncho?” she smiles. She can’t really pinpoint exact emotions on an angara’s face, but she thinks that smiling and laughter are universal. She isn’t exactly sure, but that’s what she assumes. At least the angara’s faces are more flexible and malleable than the turians. Easier to tell emotion that way. That’s one up over First Contact with the turians. Ryder’s smile morphes to a wry one when she considers the fact that the Initiative is likely to reach the “let’s kill each other phase” quickly like the turians. They definitely reached that stage with the kett already.

Ryder looks up at Poncho now. Poncho isn’t the angara’s name. At least, Ryder hopes it isn’t because that would simply be a miserable name to live with. No, Ryder only calls him Poncho because of the poncho-like piece of clothing that he wears every single day whether it be over armor or over what she assumes is civilian clothing. It’s made out of fluttering blue fabric and cinches together over his chest with silver-grey clasps. It must be something important to him or perhaps just something he really likes to wear. Either way, she calls him Poncho because of it. His skin is purple with darker purple dots and freckles scattered over his forehead. He has luminous blue eyes just like other angara, but he tends to wear a one-eyed visor. Based on his constant appearance in the holding, she assumes he’s assigned to their group for monitoring or guarding.

Ryder is making a lot of assumptions, but with her lack of knowledge, she has little choice.

Poncho slowly makes the same gesture to her, but he seems unwilling to actually hold her hand or touch her. Ryder exhales out slowly. She understands the sentiment. “So, what are we doing today?” she asks. He can’t understand, but the attempt at conversation makes her feel slightly better in the situation she was stuck in.

He holds up cuffs and Ryder sighs again. She’s doing a lot of sighing in this cell, but she turns around and willingly offers him her wrists. The cuffs are far too big for her. They aren’t for angara since they’re much too small for Poncho’s wrists, but she doubts that they were made for her. Maybe the angara have pets or something. It seems reasonable to conclude that these are just two pet collars or something of that sort. Poncho tugs on the chain connecting the cuffs and Ryder follows him. At least this gives her a chance to look at everyone else in the cells.

Some, like Liam, are still sleeping, but some like Vetra and Cora immediately press up against the barred doors to get a better glimpse of Ryder. Ryder flashes them a weak smile and says, “Don’t worry, guys, I’ll be back soon.” Poncho tugs her away faster than they can reply back, and she’s out of the holding room. As the door shuts, she hears the muffled voices of her crewmates. Misery surfaces back up to the top of her mind, and she wonders if her father would have done a better job of this Pathfinder diplomacy business than her. So far, she’s bungled everything up.

SAM tries to analyze everything that Poncho and the rest of her angaran guards are saying, but it’s so hard to parse the language of an entirely new species. According to SAM, there were virtually no similarities to any language from their own galaxy except for some syntactical structure and old words from a dead asari dialect. Other than that, Ryder’s stuck in the same miserable lack of communication.

They walk down the same street they walked down yesterday and to the same building as well. The science building is round with a tall tented roof. It’s unlike the curved spires of asari architecture or pyramidal structures of the salarians. No, this is something entirely different. Ryder suspected that this is either a laboratory or some sort of medical center based on the sterile outfits and tools that everyone uses in addition to all the bio-tech that surrounded the walls. Even if it looks different than the kinds she’s used to, there are just some things that don’t change across galaxies. Poncho nudges her over to the sterilization booth, and Ryder sighs as she allows scientists to poke her through the paper-thin dressing gown she has to wear. She dearly misses her familiar clothes — especially her nice jacket — but she doubts she would get them back.

Ryder lifts her arms up and allows them to attach little electrodes to her skin and hook her up to another machine. A different angara comes up with a metal tray in her hands and sets it down on a counter beside the machine. Rows of needles and syringe-like objects line the tray, and Ryder widens her eyes when she sees them. “Oh no, no, no,” she warns. “You are not sticking me full of needles. I know a syringe when I see one, even if it’s round and weird-looking. Do _not_ even _think_ about it.”

The angara around her tilt their heads, trying to parse through her language, and Ryder slides a hand down her face with frustration. She swears that this is a test of her own patience. Carefully and slowly, she points to the tray and mimes poking a needle into her skin. The angara with the tray stares at her, taking in all of her motions, before a spark of understanding lights in his eyes. He nods excitedly and mimes back at her with an empty syringe. He bursts out in a flurry of words that Ryder doesn’t understand, and the angara around her nod. Poncho looked more doubtful, but he still nods along.

Ryder mimed the needle motion again before she shook her head and mimed no.

 _“Ashaas?”_ Poncho finally asks.

Ryder cocks her head and replies, “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Poncho.”

“Paancho,” he answers hesitantly. He stretches out the syllables, but the word is recognizable enough. He pokes at the needles and repeats, “Paancho?”

Ryder shakes her head and says, “Needle.” She points over to the tray and repeats slowly, “Needle.”

“Nydel,” Poncho repeats back. He smiles, broad and clear, before saying, _“Haraa.”_

Ryder lets out a long and relieved sigh as she says, “Needle. Hara? Haaaara?  _Haraa._ Yeah, that sounds more like it.  _Haraa._  Needle. _Haraa.”_

The angara who had the tray repeats the English word excitedly before turning to Poncho and nudging him forward. Poncho grimaces, but he follows until he’s face to face with Ryder. She bites her lip and wonders how she should continue forward. There’s not many options, so she raises her hand up and offers her shoulder up for a tap. The motion is followed with lots of murmuring from the back, and one angara even runs for a data tablet. In Ryder’s peripheral vision, she sees them all scribbling notes down. _Scientists,_ Ryder mentally snorts. _They’re always the same in every galaxy._

Poncho offers the same shoulder tap, but he seems more comfortable with touching her compared to the first time in the cell.

“Ryder,” she chooses to say afterwards. Some scientists pause to look at her, and Poncho does too. Ryder takes advantage of their attention to point at herself and say, “Sara Ryder. Pathfinder. Human.” She repeats it once more for good measure and waits.

No response.

Ryder’s shoulders slump and she grumbles, “Ryder. Pathfinder. I’m the Pathfinder. Woohoo, I’m the Pathfinder. Still feels like I’m talking about my dad, you know. Oh, wait, you don’t know. But that one doesn’t get old. Pathfinder. Pathfinder Ryder. Pathfinder Ryder. I miss him, Poncho. I miss him a lot, and I don’t know if you’re understanding a single thing I’m saying. We really broke through with the needle and _haraa_ one though.”

Slowly, ever so slowly, Poncho shapes out, “Pad fine dar.”

Ryder nearly springs out of her seat with the sheer excitement of it, and Poncho rears back. His hand slides over to his pistol, but Ryder thumps her chest and exclaims, “Yes! Yes, Sara Ryder, Pathfinder!”

Poncho inches his hand away from the pistol, but his hand remains on his belt. “Sah rah Ry dar, Pad fine dar,” he tries. Ryder nods eagerly and points to Poncho. “Pad fine dar?” he asks.

Ryder shakes her head and points to him again. He blinks before he touches his chest with one hand and points to his face with the other. When Ryder nods, he answers, “Jaal Ama Darav.”

“Jaal am…” Ryder says, tongue twisting over the strange combination of syllables. SAM was right; Shelesh really does seem more similar to Asari dialects than anything else in the Milky way. “Jaal Ama Derev,” she tries.

There’s a collective gasp from the scientists, but more importantly, an unexpected chuckle rumbles out of Poncho. He smiles broadly and corrects, “Darav. Jaal Ama Darav.”

“SAM, what does that mean?” she mutters under her breath.

SAM crackles to life in her ear and responds, “Based on your communication thus far, I believe it is his name.”

Ryder pauses and whispers furiously, “Wait, does he think my name is Pathfinder?”

A pause. Then, SAM says, “Calculations indicate that it is 99% likely that he believes your name is Pathfinder, Pathfinder.”

“That was unnecessary, and thanks, SAM,” Ryder grumbles. “Wonderful. Fantastic.” She clears her throat, and in a louder voice, she says, “Jaal Ama Darav. Do you guys have a name structure? First name? Jaal? Ama? Darav? Jaal Ama? Ama Darav? Jaal Darav?”

Jaal Ama Darav wrinkles her nose at the sheer amount of English streaming out of her and interrupts to say, “Sah rah Ry dar Pad fine dar.”

“Yeah?” Ryder says. “That’s not my entire first name, but I don’t think Jaal Ama Darav is your entire first name either. And try pronouncing it like Sara Ryder, Pathfinder.”

“Sahrah,” Jaal Ama Darav repeats. His eyes nearly cross with the sheer effort, and he says, “Sahrah. Sara. Sara. Der. Der. Ryder. Pad fine dar… Pad fine dar.”

Ryder snorts from the stilted pronunciation of her title. “Hell, I’ll take it,” she nods. “Hello, Jaal Ama Darav.”

 _“Paavoa,_ Sara Ryder Pad fine dar,” Jaal Ama Darav returns. He tries to keep a solemn expression, but towards the end, his face cracks into a boyish smile. “Haallow, Pad fine dar,” he says.

 _“Paavoa,_ Jaal,” Ryder answers. She waves and reaches out for a shoulder tap as she repeats, _“Paavoa._ Hello.” The combination of Shelesh and English on her tongue feels strange, but this is the most comfortable she’s felt on this planet.

Maybe she has some hope after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i will entirely admit that i resorted to making up words in shelesh because there just aren't that many translations, a proper cipher, or even a thin guideline as to how shelesh really works.
> 
> translations:  
>  **ashaas** — “are you scared?”, derived from “dos ashaan” meaning "noble fear", the fear that is considered positive as it keeps you safe  
>  **haraa** — needle, derived from “haranj” meaning “the fisher’s lure” and the shelesh name for the black hole  
>  **paavoa** — "welcome", a common angaran greeting and the only canon shelesh word in this entire fic so far
> 
> but yeah! thanks for reading, and i hope you enjoyed it! let me know what your thoughts are in the comments + i might write more for this in the future. we'll just wait and see haha


	2. learning together

They don’t keep her in a cell anymore. In fact, they don’t keep anyone in the cells anymore. Instead, the angara have moved them over to a series of small cottage-like apartments. Oh, make no mistake. Ryder fully knows that they’re still being monitored, and if anything, the number of their guards have increased. Still, Ryder thinks that she’s managed to turn the Initiative crew into more valuable aliens rather than prisoners of war. The angara still don’t trust her or the others though. Ryder thinks it’s understandable. The last time they trusted an alien, their worlds were devastated.

She doesn’t know how much time has passed. SAM suspects it’s been nearly two weeks, maybe even more, but no one knows for sure. The days on Aya might correspond to a different kind of day, and the overall orbits of planets in the Heleus system aren’t all mapped out yet. So, Ryder’s left to guess. Again.

Her main guard is still Poncho — Jaal, she revises mentally, Jaal Ama Darav — and he’s exclusively stationed to her room. He regards her with less suspicion than before, but it’s not much of a step up. She’s become a curiosity and as such, he treats her like one. Communication isn’t easy, but they keep it up whether it be at the lab or in her room. Hand gestures don’t always work out well. Once, Jaal points his middle finger at her. Another time, Ryder accidentally uses a rude gesture that makes one scientist gasp with shock (and not in a good way).

It’s a work in progress, but Ryder treats each advancement more valuable than gold. Every word she obtains and stores in SAM’s growing dictionary is one more step towards freedom. She has a horizon to chase, paths to find, undiscovered worlds to journey across. There are hundreds of people depending on her to find them. She will not let her father’s work — _his dream_ — go to waste like this. He gave her a gift with his helmet on Habitat 7; she gave him a promise in return.

Based on what she can tell from his conversation, the scientists still like her best. The salarian language is too sibilant, and the turian language depends too much on flanging sounds and sub-vocals that the angara can’t replicate as well. Peebee offers the most potential since the asari language holds the most similarities to Shelesh, but according to Jaal, Peebee spends too much time fixating on the new equipment and tech to really focus on the language barrier. Drack is in solitary confinement after he tried to headbutt an angara, and Lexi’s been moved over to his quarters so that she can treat his plasma burns and wounds from the minor conflict.

Cora, Suvi, and Liam try their best with the limited English that the angara have picked up. Liam is the most successful and manages to build up a similar rapport with Jaal, but Ryder still knows the most Shelesh. Partially because of SAM, but Ryder thinks that she’s not doing half bad. SAM doesn’t feed her words to say at least. Liam doesn’t believe her though. Regardless, the scientists return to her again and again and again.

The angara keep everyone from the Tempest in separate rooms with separate bathrooms. If she wants to talk with Vetra or Liam, she has to have Jaal or one of the scientists most skilled in their language to be there. In a mixture of broken English and Shelesh, Jaal tells her it’s in case they try to plan an escape.

So, that’s why Ryder’s sitting cross-legged on the floor while Vetra awkwardly tries to position her leg spurs around an angaran chair and Jaal twiddles his thumbs in the corner. “You good, Vetra?” Ryder tries.

Vetra looks up and flares her mandibles. “This stupid chair won’t squish down the way I want it to,” she grumbles. She sticks her legs straight out and twists them to the side so the spurs stick out. Without looking at Jaal, Ryder knows that his jaw must be wide open. The first time she saw a turian reposition their legs, she tried to do it herself. Ryder smiles to herself when she remembers how she almost broke her legs that way. Alien anatomy truly was a wonder.

Ryder leans back against the wall and asks, “So, how’s the entire ‘angaran prisoner’ deal going for you?”

Vetra clicks her tongue with disapproval and says, “I can’t communicate. They can’t speak my language, and they can’t speak mine. Too many clicks and hisses in mine for them to replicate it with their tongues, and too many stretched syllables in theirs for me to tell the difference. Thank the Spirits for translators, honestly.” She drums her talons against her plates and sighs, “At least we’re not starving. According to Kallo, they have all of our equipment and supplies on the Tempest, but they’re examining each and every one. They tried giving me asari food with angaran food the other day. You’d think they’d figure it out by now.”

“Oh boy,” Ryder mutters. She glances over at Jaal who gives her an innocent look. “Hey, Poncho, have you figured out the differences in our food yet? Uh, hold on, I think the Shelesh translation for that is… _Paaras va shenash na a Jarevaon Imasaf?”_

_“Shenash na a Jarevaon Imasaf?”_ Jaal muses. “Food from the Meel-kee Way. Hard to find difference in boxes. Sorry.”

Vetra gapes at Ryder and mutters, “Damn, okay.”

Ryder shrugs, “You get used to it. Always liked taking Spanish class in school, learned how to read a little Prothean, learned a couple of Asari phrases.” Vetra doesn’t shut her mouth, and Ryder defensively complains, “What? Stop looking at me like that. I worked as a support for some Prothean researchers while I was still in the Alliance. You pick it up after a while.”

Vetra shuts her mouth with a clack and makes a low trilling noise. “You know, Liam tried eating one of their fruits when they brought him his rations,” she laughs.

“No,” Ryder breathes out. She leans in closer with wide eyes. “You gotta be kidding me. Did he… Die? I think I saw him this morning though?”

“He choked on it a little bit and then called it spicy,” Vetra snorts. “He then decided that all fruits were fine and then went on to eat other fruit. One was bland, one was spicy again, and one was, according to him, way too sweet.”

“Wow,” Ryder says. “Props to him. That guy has guts.”

“Guts?” Vetra repeats with a blank stare. “I’m sure Liam has intestines, but I don’t know why that’s important.”

“Oh my god, not you too,” Ryder groans. “It means he has courage.” She’s had enough of explaining English to people. Vetra actually _has_ a translator.

“Well, what am I supposed to do when you say weird human idioms?” Vetra retorts. “Would you understand it if I said something like 'that turian has a broken gizzard without any stones' or something like that?”

“Uh, no,” Ryder sheepishly answers. “Okay, I see your point. Will do. And uh, do you know which fruit was the sweet one? I’m kinda tired of eating meal paste.”

Vetra tilts her head to the side and clicks her mandibles as she thinks. “Maybe it was the big, spiky one. Or maybe it was the bright neon orange one. Or maybe it’s the one that’s actually a human fruit because you’re supposed to eat safe foods for yourself instead of being stupid and eating alien foods without proper analysis.”

“Sheesh,” Ryder huffs. “Fine, fine, I won’t eat alien fruits then. But _can_ you eat anything, Vetra?”

“I can eat my own rations, and based on our current stocks, I should be fine for another two months before I have to start synthesizing new food using the tech aboard the Tempest,” Vetra answers. “After that? Who knows. Can you get your newfound linguistic skills to get us out of here? We actually have work to do, and I know that more than half of our crew is getting nervous and irritated at not being able to do much of anything.” She pauses and raises an eye-plate before saying, “I’m included in that ‘more than half’ bit too, you know. We’ve got some paths to find, Pathfinder.”

Ryder drags a hand down her face as she sighs, “I know, Vetra, I know. But I’m glad we got to chat a little bit. How much time do we have left?”

Vetra glances over at Jaal and back at Ryder before she shrugs, “You’re probably running out of time. Don’t you have another linguistic session?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Ryder says. She squints at Vetra and asks, “You’re doing okay, yeah? Are they doing anything to hurt you?”

Vetra shakes her head. “They’re interested in the chemical composition of my plates, but they’re not chipping away at them. Not yet, at least. Just a lot of scanning and blood work.” She stretches her arm out and flips it up so that Ryder can see the bandage wrapping around where the seam of her joint is. The plates do a good job of hiding the bandage, but now that Ryder sees it, she thinks back to the tray of needles and syringes they almost used on her.

“No,” Ryder breathes out. “They actually… Dammit.” They might not be chipping away at Vetra yet, but who knows how far the experiments will go? If they’ve moved onto blood work with Vetra, then she needs to figure out a way to communicate _fast._ Science is always about the latest advancements. Ryder knows this like the back of her hand. That’s what she studied and what she grew up with. Biotics from her mother, artificial intelligence from her father, always pushing the boundaries to see how far you could get. Sometimes, the path leading to new horizons wasn’t always so ethical. Ryder doesn’t want to test how far angaran ethics align with the Milky Way’s, and she refuses to let her companions to pay for it.

Jaal stands up, signaling Ryder that Vetra was right. Vetra sighs out a trill that Ryder feels rather than hears. It’s at a frequency almost out of her hearing range, but Vetra thrums out a long vibration that intensifies when she lays a hand on Ryder’s shoulder. “Be careful,” she advises before she follows her angaran guard waiting at the door. Jaal waits for her too, and Ryder gets up without a word to follow him back to her room.

When they get to her room, Ryder throws herself on the bed. Her face is buried in the blankets, and Jaal lets out a concerned squawk. “I’m fine, I’m fine,” Ryder says as she flaps her hand at him absentmindedly. Finally, she rolls over and pushes herself up to sit cross-legged. Jaal takes a seat on a strange, squashed-looking cube that serves as a chair. A recording device already lies between them. Jaal must have set it down on his way over to the chair.

Ryder likes to call that chair the Fake Chair Of Lies because it’s not as soft as it looks. She knows because she tripped across it once and got a dark purple bruise from one of its corners. Ryder pushes that memory out of her mind and whispers, “Alright, SAM, you ready? Let’s go for Shelesh Round 1984 or whatever number we’re on at this point. Okay, Jaal _definitely_ isn’t going to get that reference. Do you know it, SAM?”

“Yes, Alec Ryder uploaded an extensive collection of Earthen literature. I can recite the first part of the novel to you if you wish, Pathfinder,” SAM says. “It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen. Winston Smith, his chin nuzzled into his breast in an effort to escape the vile wind—”

“Okay, okay, that’s enough,” she says. She props her elbows on her needs and asks Jaal, “ _Paaras asaa_ English?”

She hopes it means the right thing, and she’s rewarded when Jaal offers up, “Learned you more English?”

“Have you learned more English?” Ryder corrects with a soft laugh.

Jaal wrinkles his nose and replies, “English hard, Shelesh easy, Pas-findar.”

_“Paaras lang. Gosaas yav daar,_ Jaal,” Ryder points out.

Jaal cocks his head and a clever grin splits his lips. It’s the expression he always makes when he corrects her. _“Paaras ranj. Suv gosan yav daar.”_ He thinks over the words for a minute before he cheekily translates, “You learn slowly. You’re just being stubborn.”

“Lovely,” Ryder laughs. “Grammar. It’s always the grammar.”

In her ear, SAM says, “Pathfinder, I have now parsed the basics of angaran grammar. I will now input it into the rudimentary translation system you began making. We are now 40% towards having a functional translator for Shelesh.”

“Wait,” Ryder says, forgetting herself. “Why are we only 40%? We should be further along considering how much we’ve done.”

Jaal looks at her curiously, and Ryder flushes pink. She laughs awkwardly and points to her mouth. “Big _shena,_ wasn’t really thinking.”

“Drinking _tavum?”_ Jaal offers cheekily.

Ryder chucks her pillow at him as she says, “Of course not. Have you seen me at the _tavetaan_ recently? Nope. I can’t even go anywhere without you, and we spend all of our time either at the lab or in this room, working on Shelesh.”

Jaal catches the pillow mid-air, but half of her sentence loses him.

Ryder considers asking Peebee or Lexi to just mind-meld with an angara and absorb Shelesh from them. However, they don’t have SAM in their heads, and it’s just _so awkward_ to ask them to fuck an alien for the sheer purpose of not having to deal with Jaal’s shit-eating grin. “Dammit though,” she mutters. “I would love to be an asari right now. Would I fuck an alien for the language? At this point, _maybe.”_

She’s brought this idea up to SAM before, and when Ryder pinches her temple with frustration, SAM quietly murmurs, “Pathfinder, I would like to remind you that asari can mind-meld without reproduction as the main goal.”

“Shut up, SAM,” she grits out. “I started this damn thing, and I’m going to finish it.”

Jaal waits patiently. At this point, he’s gotten used to her habit of talking to herself. Or at least, Ryder thinks he knows that she talks to herself. Actually, it’s a genuine habit that Ryder’s had since she was young. She always had her brother nearby or at least someone to talk to, and the habit of talking out loud sticks with her now. It helps her process her thoughts, but now, with an actual AI in her head to respond back to everything, it’s a hassle. “So, Poncho,” she says. Jaal wrinkles his nose, and the little flaps of muscle along the sides of his head wrinkle along with it. Ryder snorts, “Get used to the nickname, Jaal. Anyways, can we do a little review? Remember that word you taught me yesterday? _Vishaaashas? Veshaaashas?_ What the _hell_ does _veshaaashas_ or whatever mean?”

_“Vehshaanan,”_ Jaal corrects. “Veh. Shaa. Nan.”

_“Vehsaanas,_ yeah? No, don’t give me that smug look again. _Vheshaanaan._ No, doesn’t sound quite right,” Ryder mutters. “Okay, what does it mean anyways?”

Jaal points to her, and Ryder mimics the gesture as she points to her own face. “Is this some new word you people have invented to describe humans? Because really, you could just use the word ‘human’ or hell, just use the word ‘aliens with hair’ to describe us. I think we’re the only aliens in Heleus with hair unless there’s some weird kett out there with hair.”

Jaal loses her in the middle of the conversation and confusedly asks, “Kett? Hooman kett?”

“No, no, we’re not kett,” Ryder sighs. Again, she returns to her original asari thought. What she wouldn’t give to be an asari right now... She sucks in a deep breath and tries, _“Vehshaanan?”_

Jaal slaps his hands against his thighs excitedly and nods, “Yes, yes, good! _Vehshaanan!”_

“Okay, what does it mean now?” Ryder tiredly asks. “We finally got to the word, but what does it mean? Am I _vehshaanan?”_

Jaal nods with excitement. His eyes gleam under the light, luminous and bright, and Ryder swears that she can see stars in them. She leans in closer to get a better look at the blue that shines. Jaal’s pupils dilate when she inches in too close, and Ryder pauses. Ah, maybe she shouldn’t do that. She pulls back and asks once more, “Alright, Poncho, you gonna tell me what the word means or nah?”

Jaal clears his throat and with the clearest enunciation she’s heard from him so far, he says, “Someone who is pleased with their own shit.”

Ryder takes only a moment to process the words, but SAM processes it faster. “I have added _vehshaanan_ to the lexicon, Pathfinder,” he says. “I have also included the example Jaal Ama Darav gave in order to obtain a better understanding of how the angara process and explain information.”

Damn his ultra fast processors.

“Very funny,” Ryder grits out, both to Jaal and SAM.

Jaal only laughs: a deep bellow that rumbles through his chest, almost as if he were purring.

Ryder rolls her eyes and murmurs, “You said 40%, SAM? Why?”

“We are at 40% because the angara seem to communicate something additional based on bioelectric signals that radiate off their skin,” SAM informs her. “I did not inform you of this earlier, but I have recorded multiple and recurring patterns with other angara you have interacted with, Pathfinder. My calculations indicate that the possibility of bioelectric signals as part of their communication system is 97% likely.”

Ryder’s shoulders slump. She doesn’t think that Jaal is friendly enough with her to allow her free access to his body. And not in _that_ way, but the experimental kind of way. There’s no scanner or tech that she can use without alerting Jaal’s attention to it. That’s a surefire way to end his limited trust, she thinks. Jaal barely allows her out of his sight and relaxes only when they lose themselves in a new conversation. She has no idea how to factor in the bioelectricity into a translator nor does she know how to make bioelectricity herself. Maybe it'll be something like turian sub-vocals where it's not completely necessary to a translator, but it could be different in Heleus.

How does she make an alien trust enough for him to learn with her, to learn together on equal footing? If Ryder can only manage to make him let down his guard and his barriers, she could work with SAM to craft a fully functional translator. It’s frustrating and infuriating in all the wrong ways.

She’ll have to think on it a little bit. But for now, the new horizons stretching across Heleus will have to wait for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah, i have no idea what i'm doing with shelesh but  
> translations:  
>  **paaras va shenash na a jarevaon imasaf?** — “have you figured out the differences in our food yet?”, derived from “shena” (mouth), “paara” (to know or learn), and “jarevaon imasaf” (the masaf shell galaxy, aka the milky way)  
>  **paaras asaa english?** — “have you learned more english?” derived from “paara” (to know or learn)  
>  **pas-findar** — jaal’s version of pathfinder, derived from “pas” (find or discovery)  
>  **ranj** — “slowly,” derived from “anj” (anchor)  
>  **suv gosan yav daar** — “you’re just being stubborn”, derived from “gosan yav daar” (being stubborn, literally meaning “clinging to a rock”)  
>  **shena** — “the mouth,” canon word  
>  **tavum** — a pleasant intoxicant added to hot water or fruit juice, canon word  
>  **tavetaan** — basically the bar place in aya, but according to the wiki, it means a place where you feel like home when referring to a place, canon word  
>  **vehshaanan** — someone pleased with their own shit, canon word
> 
> thanks for reading and i hope you enjoyed it! lmk what your thoughts are in the comments below <3


	3. trust falls

“Trust falls,” Ryder says with confidence. “Very important in human culture.”

Well, that’s stretching the truth a little bit, but she hopes it’ll be the first step towards making Jaal trust her.

“How, Pas-findar?” Jaal asks, confusion making the folds of skin around his head flatten down. He pricks them up and leans in to hear better. “Explain again?”

“Alright, so you fall backwards into someone’s arms and trust that you catch them,” Ryder demonstrates by letting herself tip over backwards onto the bed. She lands spread-eagled, arms stretched out and back flat against the unnaturally squashy bed. Ryder realizes that this is a trend with angaran furniture; they’re always ridiculously squashy compared to other alien furniture. The only thing that comes close is turian furniture, but turian furniture always sinks in like some sort of memory foam to accommodate the spurs and hard plates. Ryder slaps the bed with her hands for emphasis, and it makes a strange creaking, popping sound.

Jaal winces at the sounds and asks, “Why?”

Ryder throws her hands up on the bed and snorts, _“Savaas,_ Jaal, to trust.” She gets up off the bed and holds her arms out as she explains, “You hold your arms out like this to catch the person. _Savaasanas?_ Is that a good translation in Shelesh? Maybe?”

Jaal considers the thought for a moment before he turns and falls back into Ryder’s still-outstretched arms. 121 kilograms of sheer angara crash into her, and they both fall on the bed with Jaal on top of Ryder. “You said you would catch!!” Jaal squawks.

Ryder can’t get an answer out; Jaal knocked out all the air out of her. Jaal tries to roll off her, but that just digs his sharp elbow and biceps into her breast and sides painfully. She manages a pained yelp which makes Jaal flail to get off of her. Ryder tries to get up at the same time and tangles her leg in the space between Jaal’s legs. The nature of his bone structure only serves to trap Ryder’s leg between his thighs.

_“Paavoa, Jaal, Evfra sheshnaa —”_

An angara guard bursts into Ryder’s room, only to freeze at the sight of their tangled limbs. Ryder and Jaal instantly stop moving and crane their heads up to see the guard. “Ah,” she slowly says. She raises her hands and hurriedly says, _“Esana, vaas set shayas asjen.”_

“Oh no,” Jaal mutters as he tries to move away from Ryder. Ryder rolls away in the opposite direction, but as she rolls, she rubs against the blanket and accidentally sends static electricity in Jaal’s direction. The thrum constantly on Jaal’s skin answers and sends an even stronger shock her way. She yelps and tries to pull her leg away. The sensation of being restrained makes her automatically reach for her biotics, and the spark snaps with even a greater force. With wide eyes, she meets Jaal’s gaze and stammers, “W-wow, no idea how that happened.”

He stops moving and turns to look at her, mouth slightly open. “Do you?” he tries. “You need me? Not mistake? How do you have… I did not think hoomans had… That. You need? Me?” He flushes a bright blue that tinges his purple skin a deeper, cooler shade of lavender.

“Uh, no?” Ryder answers hastily.

“It appears as though you have triggered some sort of angaran bioelectric communication signal with your static electricity and biotics, Pathfinder,” SAM says in her ear. “Perhaps it was a signal for help or a signal for physical need based on Jaal Ama Darav’s words.

Oh no. Oh no. She did _not_ intend to send out an electric booty call.

“No, none of that,” she says flatly as she waggles her fingers near the sides of her face. Apparently, that was a gesture meaning sex to the angara. SAM thinks it’s something related to the stimulation of the folds of skin by their heads. Ryder doesn’t want to think about it too much and doesn’t want her intentions to be misconstrued. She doesn’t want to get in Jaal’s pants; she wants to get off of Aya with her ship and crew intact. She will admit that Jaal is very muscled though. Even though he crushed her down to the bed, she could still feel the defined muscles in his body. Yeah, she could get behind that but not right now. The priority was translation and then leaving Aya to find a place for her people.

“Okay,” Jaal says before letting out a soft puff of laughter. “Hooman hard to understand. Sorry, _esana,_ sorry. I did not want to hurt. But now Evfra will be… Not know what is going on proper. Misunderstanding now.”

Evfra de Tershaav was an interesting guy. Ryder can tell him apart from other angara based on the frown and the permanently grumpy attitude that veritably radiates off him. By some miracle, the leader of the angaran Resistance has a personality that manages to transcend language barriers. He makes it well-known that he doesn’t trust her. Ryder didn’t think that it could get worse than Jaal and some of the other scientists, but Evfra de Tershaav truly takes distrust to another level. Jaal once assured her that there is a group called “the Roekaar” who would hate her far more. She didn’t know what to think about that statement, sp she made SAM file it away in some deep database.

Ryder playfully slaps him on the shoulder and says, “Look at you, big guy. I’m shorter and smaller than you. I can’t really catch you very well. And yeah, sorry about that entire situation. It probably didn’t look very good for you.”

“Okay, we try again,” Jaal says. He holds his arms out expectantly and waits.

“Oh, you can’t be serious.”

“Why not? Important part of hooman culture, yes?”

Ryder wants to quietly combust into tiny pieces. This plan really wasn’t working. But Jaal waits for her with those wide, starry eyes, and she swears that she’s so ridiculously weak for puppy eyes no matter what galaxy she’s in. Half of her tries to rationalize this as being part of her job. Exploring new horizons involves having an amicable First Contact with other alien species, and this is just another duty of hers to take up. So, Ryder turns around and shuts her eyes before she falls.

She feels the whistling of the air around her, and for a split second, she worries that Jaal won’t catch her. But his arms safely catch her, and the back of her head hits the soft fabric of his rofjinn. “There you go,” he murmurs. There must be something about angaran vocal cords because Ryder can feel his voice resonating in his chest. She cranes her head up to see Jaal looking down at her. He offers up a quick smile, and Ryder flashes another one back. Reciprocity. Something that they’ve both learned to do while they try to figure each other out.

Something flickers in Jaal’s eyes, and the shining flecks in them dim as he shuts them. The smile disappears off his face, and he wordlessly helps Ryder back on her feet. She doesn’t know why she feels so… Disappointed. But she takes it in stride and says, “You should probably find Evfra. I don’t think he likes waiting. Well, I don’t know that for sure, but he seems like the type of person to not like anything much.”

“Evfra means well,” Jaal says as he heads towards the door. He pauses and says, “Evfra tries hard. For Resistance, against kett. He tries too much, makes him grum… Grum… Grumppii.” He then offers a hesitant shrug, but instead of a proper shrug, he moves his shoulders too far up and too far down to make it seem unnatural.

For some reason, the shrug seems to be a human gesture that translates so well over to other alien species. The turians, salarians, and asari all seem to love it, and now, the angara — well, at least, _Jaal_ — do it too. Ryder holds up her hand and demonstrates a more natural shrug for him. “Not so high up,” she advises. “It looks strange then.” Jaal tries again, and Ryder nods, “Yeah, that’s better, Poncho. Now, go on. Evfra’s waiting.”

Jaal leaves and shuts the door. She can hear the lock click, and she knows she’ll have to wait. Ryder slumps on the bed like she usually does. At this point, she’s starting to feel incredibly discouraged. Nothing in the Milky Way prepared her for this. She curls up on the blankets and wonders if she could ever picture this. If anything, this attempt at languages reminds her of the Prothean digs she used to go to when she was stationed with the scientists. Ryder remembers being so thrilled to receive that assignment. She managed to inherit her mother’s love for science, and that translated well into her new line of work. Ryder also remembers being so crushingly disappointed when she was transferred to an empty station light-years away from Earth. That was after her father was discovered with his AI project. That effectively ended her career in the Alliance. Come to think of it, that AI project is now her only hope. Ironic how that turned out, but Ryder knows she has to be grateful for the help that SAM offers with this immense task of translating an entirely new language from another galaxy. At least for Prothean, there were history and pre-existing remnants of writing that they could work with. Here, it’s just Ryder, an AI, and a single poncho-wearing angara named Jaal.

Ryder finds herself dozing off and figures she’ll just take a nap while she’s at it. She has to wait until Jaal comes back to make any new progress anyways. She can’t go talk with Vetra or Cora or anyone else without Jaal by her side, and there’s not much in the room to amuse her. _A potential risk,_ Jaal told her. The angara will not underestimate her ability to refashion things into weapons. The same reason for not letting her talk to Vetra alone. So, Ryder sleeps.

When she wakes up, Ryder gets up and starts to pace over and over and over again. She wonders how she hasn’t managed to tread a mark into the floor with the sheer amount of pacing that she does. She had SAM scan the floor with her hidden omni-tool, and he says that it’s some alien rehybridization of synthetic plastic and sheet metal. Also, SAM says that there’s some sort of plant fiber mixed in there, but he can’t tell what it is. If SAM can’t tell what it is, then Ryder certainly can’t figure out what it is. So, she paces and paces.

“What’s the progress on the translator?” she asks out loud.

SAM doesn’t reply right away. That’s rare enough for her to stop pacing and ask again, “SAM? You doing okay? What’s the progress on the translator? What’s the estimated finish time on that?”

“69%, Pathfinder.”

“Oh, you _have_ to be joking,” Ryder exhales. She presses her fingers to her temples and despairs. An unfortunate number immediately after an unfortunate incident. She starts pacing again and scuffs her heels against the floor as she goes.

“No, Pathfinder. If you would like a joke, Alec uploaded several puns that I can tell you right now,” SAM answers.

Ryder stops in her tracks and raises her hand up as she warns, “Don’t even dare.”

“Did you hear about the Spectre who was hit in the head with a can of soda? She was lucky it was a soft drink.”

Somehow, SAM manages to deliver the terrible pun in such a monotone, modulated voice that it makes Ryder snicker.

“Thank you for the response, Pathfinder,” SAM says. But immediately after that, he gets back on topic by saying, “But to answer your question, Pathfinder, the current progress on an angaran language database is 69%. Progress is stalled because the extent of vocabulary and grammar is limited without an analysis of angaran bioelectricity. We do not know how much bioelectricity plays into communication.”

This time, Ryder sinks into the squashy chair in the corner of her room. This is normally where Jaal sits, so she’s taken to calling it the Poncho Chair. But she sits down and twiddles her thumbs as she tries to think about how to get a better scan on angaran bioelectricity. She reaches for her biotics again, and she can feel the familiar thrum of energy sizzling underneath her skin. It feels like a relief to revel in the sensation, and she shuts her eyes to soak up the feeling.

Ryder opens her eyes with a small smile and sees Jaal standing at the door, jaw open and eyes wide. Ryder glances down at her skin and sees the familiar blue tinge of biotics dancing their way like a miniature aurora. “Oh, _shit,”_ she swears under her breath.

Jaal quickly shuts the door behind him and strides up to her. His own skin crackles and makes the air smell like ozone, like the moment just before a storm. He pulls his gun and points it squarely at Ryder’s head as he grits out, “What is that.”

Ryder slowly raises her hands up in a clear sign of surrender, and she forces her biotics to subside. “Kind of like your electricity?” she tries. “Like the static electricity that sparked between us.

“E-laac-tree-cee-ty?” Jaal murmurs. As usual, he stretches the syllables out, but there is none of the good-natured smile on his face. There’s only cold wariness as he keeps his finger on the trigger.

“You have to trust me, Jaal,” Ryder says softly. “Like the trust falls. I promise I won’t hurt you and I promise that it isn’t anything bad.”

“Trust,” Jaal repeats. His finger slowly moves away just a centimeter away from the trigger. Ryder knows that in a split second, he could move his trigger finger back and kill her, but this is the best that she can do.

“Yes, trust. _Savaas._ I can explain,” Ryder offers.

“Then... Trust. I will trust you.”

“Alright,” Ryder says. She slowly moves her hands back down to her lap and resists the urge to gesture as she talks. It’s not what she normally does, but she fears that Jaal might shoot her if she makes a sudden movement. “Electricity,” Ryder says instead. “The syllables are e-lec-tri-ci-ty. It’s a form of energy. Sometimes, we use it to power lights, _sovos_ .” Slowly, she stretches her arm out to point towards the light embedded in the wall and repeats, _“Sovos.”_

“Ah,” Jaal nods. He tries the word out again, and this time, he succeeds better in the overall pronunciation of it. It’s still rather stretched out, but the angara did love stretching out syllables with vowels in them. “Do you electricity?” he asks as he gestures to Ryder’s hand.

“Uh,” Ryder says, torn between wanting to tell Jaal and not wanting to be poked and prodded with needles. Honestly, she doesn’t even know how to start beginning to explain the concept of biotics to him without using scientific terminology she doesn’t have translations for. How did humans ever figure out how to work with the rest of the galaxy after First Contact? Well, that was more of a rhetorical question. Asari mind-melding, prior observations from Council spies, and a pre-existing translation tech infrastructure allowed the Citadel Council to broker a peace between the turians and the humans. Here, she has exceptionally limited knowledge of the angara and no translation tech and she definitely isn’t an asari. If anything, she’s cobbling together her own version of translation tech with an advanced AI and a vocabulary knowledge comprised of basic nouns, verbs, and swear words like _skkut_ and now, _vehshaanan._

“Well, it’s hard to explain,” she decides to say instead.

Jaal merely observes her. The gun remains. Ryder doesn’t know if he knows how to read human facial expressions yet. The one good thing about the angara is that they were so emotionally open, and their faces matched the same level of expressiveness. The thing she doesn’t really know about is how the angara typically make gestures and twist their faces in reaction to certain emotions other than curiosity, anger, and Jaal’s signature, shit-eating grin. Anger is definitely there on Jaal’s face, but there’s something more there. Maybe curiosity? Interest? Ryder can’t tell.

“Try,” he finally says. “Try to explain.”

Ryder presses her fingers to her temples and ventures, “It’s like electricity, but not really. Children — _onjeng_ — get this thing called biotics — like electricity, like _sovos_ — when their mothers get exposed, shown, touch another thing called element zero. It’s not good. Some die, _se draunj,_ from element zero. Eezo, we call it. But those that survive, those get biotics.”

As she explains, the tenseness in Jaal’s shoulders bleed out and he holsters his gun back. His eyes track every one of Ryder’s movements though. “Eezo,” he tests out. When Ryder nods, he mutters, “Finally, word that is easy to say.” He considers Ryder up and down and says, _“Nai drauas._ You did not die.” A ghost of his bright grin crosses his face as he says, _“Gosaas yav daar._ You are stubborn. You did not die.”

“Nope, I sure didn’t,” Ryder says. “I’m a stubborn one, always was. My brother didn’t die either. We’re twins, _vaasa-nari._ He’s stubborn too.”

“Where is he?” Jaal asks. “Your family?”

Ryder falters and struggles to find the words both in Shelesh and English. “He’s not dead, _nai draun._ He didn’t die, but he was close to it. A coma. _Sovoa,_ unconscious, comatose. And my parents are dead.”

The small smile crashes off of Jaal’s face, and now, Ryder can read his face clearly. Deep, striking sorrow. Grief, possibly. He doesn’t say a word, but Ryder’s simple statement affects far more than she expects. Tentatively, she asks, “Are you okay?”

Jaal’s gaze remains focused on Sara, but his voice stumbles through the words as he says, “Ah, yes. Yes. I am okay. Are you? Your family, I…”

“Yeah,” Ryder sighs. “You get used to it. You move on. You endure. And you work harder for the family you’ve lost and the family you still have left.” She glances at Jaal and hopes with all her heart that her meaning gets through. “That’s why I want to leave,” she says. “That’s why I want to protect my crew. They are my family now.”

A flicker of understanding crosses Jaal’s eyes, and Ryder bows her head. That is the most she can ask for. “Are you going to tell the others?” she says as she stares at the floor. “The scientists? Evfra?”

No answer.

Ryder hears the click of a gun, and she jolts. She tears her gaze back up to see Jaal stare at the gun in his hand. He flicks the safety on and off a couple more times before he finally slides it back into its place on his belt. “No,” he says. “For now. Only for now. Trust fall. We will catch each other yes?”

“Yes,” Ryder says in a rush of utter relief. This is the best outcome she ever could have asked for. All she needs is a little more time, just a few more days to convince Jaal that she has good intentions. One more step towards gaining freedom. It’s hard to let go of that blinding hope, but he’s right.

This is a trust fall.

She takes the leap, and her biotics slowly trickle back across her skin, casting blue and lavender light across the room and on Jaal. Ryder looks up and meets Jaal’s gaze and offers up a hopeful smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> translations:  
>  **savaas** — to trust, derived from “vaasa-nari” (a shared soul), assuming that you must trust someone in order to share something  
>  **savaasanas** — trust fall, derived from “savaas” and the reverse of “gosan” (to cling or to grasp)  
>  **paavoa, jaal, evfra sheshnaa** — “hello, jaal, evfra wants to talk with —”, derived from “paavoa” (hello) and “shena” (mouth) / “shelesh” (name of language)  
>  **esana, vaas set shayas asjen** — “sorry, i’ll leave you two alone” and yeah i’ve got no good reason for this except for “shay” from “taoshay” (loved one) + hopefully that amalgamation means two  
>  **sovos** — “lights”, derived from “sovoa” ("lights out", as in knock unconscious)  
>  **onjeng** — “children”, canon word  
>  **se draunj** — “some die”, derived from “draullir” (death caves)  
>  **nai drauas** — “you did not die”, different conjugation and derived from “draullir” (death caves)  
>  **gosaas yav daar** — “you are stubborn”, different grammatical conjugation of previously established sentence  
>  **vaasa-nari** — "a shared soul," possibly meaning twins, canon word  
>  **nai draun** — “he did not die”, different conjugation of previously established sentence  
>  **sovoa** — "lights out", as in knock unconscious, canon word
> 
> i rly underestimated how tempting it would be to write jaal like he normally is in-game. however, i gotta remember that he still doesn't trust ryder yet ughhghhgg but yeah! hope you enjoyed the new chapter and lmk your thoughts in the comments <3


	4. light of the heart

Ryder beckons for Jaal to come closer, and he circles around her, eyeing her warily. He pauses mid-circle since the bed’s in his way, but he concedes and steps closer. Above his purple skin, Ryder can’t see anything, but she can feel a strange, crackling energy pricking the edge of her biotics. 

“Hmm,” Ryder murmurs. She bites her lip before she extends her hand out to Jaal and says, “Might as well try, right?”

“Try what?” Jaal asks. He hesitantly lifts his hand and tries to mimic the way Ryder holds it up.

Ryder steels her nerves before she grabs Jaal’s hand and shakes it firmly. “There’s a handshake for you, big guy,” she says. “This is another greeting, like saying  _ paavoa _ or hello.”

Her biotics collide with Jaal’s bioelectricity and gives it color. Light surrounds them like a corona surrounding a star, and Ryder’s biotics shine even brighter with the addition of Jaal’s bioelectricity. Now, she can see sparks that leap and connect with others over his skin. Jaal tears his gaze away from his skin to look at Ryder, and she can see a myriad of emotions — shock, surprise, curiosity, fear, _ she can’t tell _ — in his blue eyes. 

“Hello,” Jaal repeats. His voice cracks in the middle of the word as he gapes at Ryder and their shared energy. He shakes Ryder’s hand over and over again, and Ryder wonders if he knows when to stop. He just keeps shaking her hand.  _ Well, it’s gotta be good for getting SAM some data, _ she thinks to herself. Jaal doesn’t let go, and Ryder can feel a resonant thrum from his skin. His hand is warm. It’s closer to the feeling of the micro-scales across asari skin or the soft, plate-less parts of a turian rather than the scales of a drell or the slightly damp touch of a salarian. Half of her wonders what her own hand feels like to him.

And he continues to shake her hand.

“Okay, big guy, hey, hey now, big guy,” Ryder finally says. “Jaal, that’s enough. Handshakes are quick,  _ visaa _ , short things. Otherwise, it gets too long.”

Jaal pauses, but he doesn’t let go of Ryder’s hand. “Your…” He points to her hand and asks, “What is again?” 

“Hand,” Ryder supplies. “This is my hand. The things that stick out from it are called fingers. The flat bit is called the palm.” She reaches over with her spare hand to Jaal’s free hand and taps the various parts for emphasis. “This is your hand, these are your fingers, and this is your palm. You have five fingers like me, but the last three are webbed together.” She tilts her head and wonders, “Wait, why are they webbed together? Did your ancestors or like, pre-evolutionary forms swim in the oceans? My brother has some webbed toes, you know. They look kinda weird. Vestigial organs and all that. I had wisdom teeth myself. Hurt like a bitch to take them out because the military dentist ran out of the good pain meds and forgot to slap on dental medigel after the procedure. Hold on, do you understand what I’m saying? Webbed? Yeah, I didn’t think so. But there’s your hand, your fingers, and your palm.”

Ryder reaches out to prod Jaal’s palm again, but some static electricity pops between their touch. The thrum on Jaal’s skin intensifies, and the spark between them makes her yelp. She automatically reaches for her biotics, and the spark snaps with even a greater force. Man, this is a little bit more of a hassle than she originally thought.  _ SAM better have good data, _ she silently swears.

“No, too much information, not right one,” Jaal says. He tentatively squeezes Ryder’s hand, and now, her biotics are the ones to snap back and wash new light over him. “I mean this. Eezo?”

“Biotics,” Ryder corrects. “Mine are called biotics. Yours is what we would call bioelectricity. Eezo causes biotics though.”

“Biotics?” Jaal muses. He rubs his fingers and looks up at Ryder.

She knows that look. It’s the angaran version of a shit-eating grin.

“Oh no,” she warns. “Oh no, big guy, don’t you even  _ dare, _ if you even start, I will actually eviscerate you.” Ryder mentally pats herself on the back for never teaching Jaal what “evisceration” meant. She also doesn’t think anyone else taught him what that word meant either.

Jaal only rubs the pads of his thumb and index finger of his other hand together before reaching out to prod Ryder’s hand. Bioelectricity sparks from his skin collide with the residual biotics still crackling underneath Ryder’s skin before they come back to him through their held hands. Ryder lets out another loud yelp. “Shit, honestly??” she groans. “I  _ told  _ you not to do it. God, Jaal, what part of ‘oh no’ don’t you understand?”

“Oh no,” Jaal smugly answers. “Oh no, Pas-findar, oh no.”

“Yeah, yeah, shut up,” Ryder grumbles. “This is a solid  _ skkut,  _ you know that.  _ Skkut. _ ”

“You are fine,” Jaal says. If Ryder strains her ears, she thinks she can hear the barest trace of a laugh restrained in his voice. He wiggles his fingers at her, and now, she can physically see small sparks fly from his fingers. Jaal pauses and experimentally wiggles his fingers again. Less sparks, but still, that’s enough to make him bring his hand closer and examine it more thoroughly. Ryder sighs and pulls her biotics back. The light fades, and the only thing Ryder can feel is the warmth of Jaal’s hand.  Now, he simply looks mystified as he re-evaluates Ryder. “I didn’t know humans were capable of whatever this is,” he mutters under his breath. He huffs out a bitter laugh and squeezes Ryder’s hand again. She can feel a faint vibration underneath his skin with a following spark, but it’s nothing like what they did a few moments ago. “And she matched my  _ taosovos _ but with light instead,” he adds.

_ “Taosovos?” _ Ryder asks. “What does that mean? And wait, I actually understood more of what you had to say this time.” 

Before Jaal answers, SAM clicks out a soft and almost heart-stopping answer, “Basic translation complete. Now uploading a rudimentary version of a translator for your use, Pathfinder.”

Jaal continues on because he can’t hear SAM at all and says,  _ “Taosovos _ is what you called my ‘bioelectricity.’ We use it to communicate. A more direct translation in your language would be ‘light of the heart’ or something along those lines.” He pauses and frowns. “I do not think you understood any of that,” he admits with a laugh. He scratches his shoulder sheepishly and says, “Sorry about that.”

His voice remains deep and rumbling as it always is, but now, the sounds shape themselves into smoother syllables she can actually understand. “No, no, I got it,” Ryder says. Her voice is hushed with awe, and she nods her head for emphasis. “I got it. Wow. Amazing. I can understand.”

“That’s good?” Jaal says with hesitation. “You’re learning Shelesh a lot faster than I originally thought. Do all humans learn this fast?” He presses his lips into a thin, thoughtful line before he asks, “And these biotics. Do you use them for communication too? Or will this be a threat to us? Evfra will not take kindly to this new  _ enapas  _ if he knows.”

“I do not have all the vocabulary within Shelesh,” SAM says in Ryder’s ear. “Some words may not be translatable without further study. Current estimate of translated word may be similar to discovery based on the Shelesh word,  _ pas. _ ” 

“Okay, okay,” Ryder says with a deep exhale of breath. “I’ve got a plan. I think I can figure out how to improve communications between the angara and.. Us, I guess. The Milky Way people, you know? And uh, no, we don’t use biotics for communication. It’s more of a new development for humans, actually. The eezo and everything. But yeah, yeah, back to the point, I think I could rig up something that’ll improve communication.”

“Slow down, I cannot understand everything you’re saying,” Jaal chides. “Do all humans speak this quickly?”

“Just me,” Ryder says. “But remember how I asked you to trust me?” When Jaal nods, she shuts her eyes. Breathe in, breathe out. Inhale, exhale. She centers herself and feels the familiar and comforting hum of her biotics in her core. Ryder opens her eyes and says, “I can build a device that can translate our languages. But I need my omnitool, Jaal. I need you to get my omnitool back for me.”

When they first brought her into captivity, the angara took everything that could be a weapon or a tool off her. That included the small chip that encircled her wrist. Goodbye, omnitool. Hello, handcuffs. 

But Jaal doesn’t move. No words, no change in expression. He only blinks at her before he finally says, “What?”

Damn, she forgot this translator was only one-way.

“Omnitool,” she says, shaping each syllable with extra care. She points to her wrist and says, “Small, on my wrist. They took it away.”

“What does it look like?” Jaal asks. He mimics the same motion on his own wrist. 

“Small,” Ryder says, almost helplessly. She doesn’t know how to define what an omnitool is to Jaal out of all people. He doesn’t know enough English to understand, and she only understands enough Shelesh based on the words SAM’s stored and the signals he’s catalogued. 

Jaal keeps making the motion for a few seconds longer before he blinks and grins. His electricity snaps back up with such speed that it makes a soft popping sound, and he says proudly, “Do you mean the thing we found on all of you aliens? I took them back home.”

“You took them?” Ryder asks. She sags with relief, thankful that it wasn’t in the hands of some random scientist. “Can I have mine back? I can fix it so that we can communicate more easily.” She makes a talking gesture with her right hand and a circling motion with her left hand to emphasize the point. Jaal laughs half-heartedly and the folds on the sides of his face flare slightly. Ryder narrows her gaze on Jaal. “What did you do to it?” she asks. Her brow creases with suspicion as she watches Jaal shift back and forth.

“I took it apart.”

For a second, Ryder thinks that SAM just mistranslated it. But then, she registers the words in their full, human meaning and proceeds to choke on her words. “You did  _ what?” _ she sputters. Her mouth is wide open and her eyebrows are raised so high she doesn’t think she can raise them even higher. “You tried to  _ take it apart?!” _

“I can explain,” Jaal starts, but Ryder holds up a hand to stop him and shakes her head.

“No, no, you cannot,” she bites out. “You encountered an alien device that you have no idea how to use and then  _ took it apart. _ You have no idea how to use it, so what makes you think you could take it apart? Can you even put it back together? And how did you even take it apart? You might have damaged some parts, and we’re 600 years from the Milky Way so I can’t even call up my usual repair guy to fix it. Do you hear that, Jaal? Pete’s Repair Shop on the Citadel is  _ 600 years away _ , and I can’t even fix it!”

Jaal blinks at her and pastes on a smile over his blank expression. Ryder knows that she passed his understanding of English a while ago in her mini rant, but she can’t bring herself to care. The brief spark of hope flickers out, but Jaal tries, “I put it back together.”

Ryder buries her face in her hands and says, “That was specially built for me. From the Initiative. My dad customized part of it before he finally gave it to me. And you took it apart…” Other than SAM and a few other possessions still on Ark Hyperion, that omnitool was one of the few things Ryder had left from her father. Alec had established the goals for the Special Tasks Group when they were initially designing omnitools to be used on the Initiative, and she remembers the salarian and geth tech he studied late at night. He was even the one to personally connect it to SAM. Now, the last few remains of her father was gone from Ryder’s hands.

“I will bring it to you right away,” Jaal says. He lays his hand on Ryder’s shoulder — the same precursor to his usual angaran greeting — and sparks a touch of electricity on her shoulder. SAM has no answer for the meaning of the spark, but Jaal continues, “We use different types of  _ pasovas _ and in our items, so I did not disturb the original  _ pasovalesh _ in your omnee-tool.”

_ “Pasovas?” _ Ryder asks. “I don’t know what that means.”

Jaal makes a face and tries to mime out the meaning. It’s largely unsuccessful, especially since he starts using gestures more unique to angara. Some of them include Jaal waving his hands furiously by his head and making wave motions with his left hand. Honestly, Ryder thinks that the first set of motions makes him look like he’s pretending to have cat ears on top of his head or something like that, but it probably has some significant meaning in Shelesh. She just doesn’t understand. Language barriers. What a pain.

Jaal turns to leave, but before he opens the door, he glances back and says, “I will be back soon. Stay strong and clear, Sara Ryder Pathfinder.” 

SAM’s rudimentary translator program doesn’t alter the smoothness or the pattern of Jaal’s voice as much as she noticed before, so she knows that Jaal’s making the effort to speak English. Somehow, that makes Ryder feel even… Worse? Better? She settles for better, but she thinks that Jaal’s sincerity shines through so brightly. Trusting him feels like she’s leaping off the edge of the cliff without jump jets on, but with those final words, she feels a little more comfortable. Trust falls. She had to take the leap at some point or another.

When Jaal returns, he has her omnitool stowed safely away in a pouch hanging from his belt. He holds it out to her in the palm of his large hand, and Ryder sees a small, colored piece of tape or paper attached to it. There’s a rudimentary “P” scrawled on it with a series of characters that she can’t comprehend. “P for Pathfinder,” Jaal explains. “From when you tried to teach me how to write.”

Ryder remembers that day because it was possibly one of the most frustrating days she’s ever had with the entire translation experiment. Jaal brought an angaran slate and stylus and tried to teach her how to write, and in turn, she tried to teach him some English. Neither could really figure out how to write, but they both learned how to write each other’s names. Well, Jaal got down the letters S, R, and P for “Sara Ryder Pathfinder.” Ryder could only manage the first swirling character for “Jaal.” But that small, terribly written P makes Ryder beam.

She grabs it and loops it around her wrist. It feels strange. She’s never taken off her omnitool for so long before, and the sensation of it on her skin now feels foreign. She activates it without warning, and Jaal steps back from it with a yelp. The soft and familiar orange glow washes over her wrist and materializes as the familiar interface. Ryder runs through the various programs and checks over each part. Everything seems to be in mint condition, and she still has full canisters of omni-gel. 

However, there’s one program that’s new on her interface. Ryder squints at it and activates it. The program blinks on and off before it changes the color of her interface to a deep blue. It opens up a screen where white streaks swirl around aimlessly, and Ryder looks up to narrow her eyes on Jaal. “You said that you didn’t do anything to it,” she says.

“Oh. I forgot you do not have  _ taosovos. _ It won’t work without it,” he says. He reaches over to settle a hand down over the pulsating colors, and Ryder watches as the electricity from his hand guides the white streaks into a picture of Jaal. The picture of him has a sly smile and shows a different rofjinn. The cut is slightly different with the seams angled more sharply to emphasize the broadness of his shoulders. He smiles broadly when he sees the dumbfounded look on Ryder’s face.

“So, you took my omnitool apart despite it being completely alien, put it back together perfectly, and installed a new program that’s nothing more than a magnetic picture of your face?” Ryder says. She blinks hard and looks at the picture of Jaal again. It’s a good likeness, that’s for sure. 

Jaal veritably preens as he says, “I told you, I am a  _ pashay _ . That means very, very smart. And I am not new to this. I’ve worked with kett  _ pasovas _ before.”

In her ear, SAM murmurs, “Pathfinder, based on previous diction analyzation, I predict that the word  _ pasovas _ means technology. If I extrapolate that, I predict that  _ pasovalesh _ means coding or programming.”

“Thanks,” Ryder says out loud, but Jaal mistakes that for himself. His grin grows brighter and he removes his hand from the omnitool interface. The white dissolves away and returns to spiralling around the blue light. They look like shooting stars when they cross the darker blue areas, and Ryder watches them trail white across her omnitool interface. Watching the miniature meteors reminds Ryder of all she has at stake. All the stars in this great, wide galaxy. All the worlds she has left to explore. All the paths she has left to find for the sake of her people. Ryder closes out of the program, and her interface returns to a familiar orange. She brings up a different program and says, “Alright then. Translation time. Let’s do this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> translations:  
>  **taosovos** — bioelectricity, lit. “light of the heart”, derived from “taoshay” (loved one) and “sovos” (word i made up for “light” from “sovoa” which means “lights out” or “unconscious”)  
>  **enapas** — development, derived from “pas” (discovery)  
>  **pasovas** — technology, derived from “pas” and “sovos”  
>  **pasovalesh** — coding / programming, derived from “pasovas” and “shelesh”  
>  **pashay** — genius, derived from “pas” and “taoshay”
> 
> yeah im still out here, making up random words and passing it off as shelesh. hope you enjoyed the new chapter + lmk what your thoughts are on it in the comments <3


	5. building connections

“Okay, Jaal. Give me the signal for happy.”

Ryder braces herself, bringing her biotics to hover over her skin in a thin shield. With her omnitool recording all the different wavelengths and her biotics amplifying the effect, SAM would be able to record and define each signal more clearly in their translation program. Jaal shuts his eyes and soon after, her biotics vibrate with the sheer force of the energy that Jaal pours into the air. He’s smiling, almost on the verge of laughing, and Ryder thinks she can hear SAM in her head, clicking all the different signals and electric waves into place. Happiness.

“What are you thinking about?” she asks as Jaal bites his lips and concentrates on making small sparks fly between them. Her biotics shift from a dark purple-blue to a lighter blue, verging onto white, with each spark that cracks between them.

“Family. My true mother, Sahuna. My father. My brothers and my sisters,” Jaal answers. “The waterfalls in Aya. A small nook in Haverl where I used to play as a child.”

Ryder cracks a smile at that. “Alright then. Angry now. What’s the signal for anger?” she asks next. She watches intently as Jaal’s smile slowly shifts into a frown, deep in its edges and volatile in its fury. His electricity shifts from small, soft sparks that dance along the outer perimeter of Ryder’s biotics to something that ravages through her thin shield and sparks against her skin. She bites down the yelp that threatens to rise up out of her throat. _For the translator,_ she reminds herself. She’s taken a few punches, a few kicks, a few misplaced biotic attacks before. She’s got some tolerance to pain. She wouldn’t have survived the Alliance without it. She can take this and more if need be.

Still, she grits her teeth through the pain and tries to stick it out. Finally, SAM tells her, “That is enough, Pathfinder. I have gathered enough data from this reading.”

Ryder sighs with relief, and her shoulders sag as she says, “That’s good. You can stop now.”

“The kett,” Jaal says. His answers are unbidden, but they spill out of him anyways. “Every single person that has been taken away from us by them.” His sentences start garbling into untranslatable sentences, but Ryder thinks that they’re all about how much he despises the kett. He looks at Ryder’s arms and blinks before his expression falls. Her skin is red, and in some places, there are small welts where the combination of electricity and biotics burned in too deeply. He reaches over to brush his fingertips carefully over the reddened skin, and now, Ryder can’t help but hiss out with pain.

Jaal frowns again and looks up at Ryder. “You did not tell me it hurt,” he says, low and accusing. “I do not want to continue if you are going to get hurt from it.”

“No, no, I’m fine,” Ryder says, trying to soothe him. “I’ve been hit with worse. Did you know, my brother once threw me across a field with his biotics? I broke a bone when I hit the ground. Trust me, a little burn is going to be fine.” She holds up her omnitool, and its orange light casts a strange shadow over her biotics. With a press of a button, she pauses the recording program and opens up a small canister of medi-gel. She uses her pinky finger to extract the tiniest amount of medi-gel out — can’t afford to waste it in Andromeda — and applies it over her burns. Instantly, she feels the gentle, cooling effect on her skin, and Jaal watches with awe as her skin heals over and the red fades.

“Marvelous,” he breathes out. “Your technology is marvelous.”

“We’ve had this for a while,” Ryder says. “I don’t know if it’ll work for the angara, but we can figure it out later. Do you want to try something like sadness or fear now?”

Jaal chuckles before he taps Ryder’s arm right above the medi-gel and the place where the burn once was. “That will be easy,” he says. “I just felt it moments ago. This is fear, and the next one will be sadness.”

Fear shakes her biotics up and makes light rattle across her skin. Some sparks cross through the shield, but they don’t hurt. Instead, they brush over her skin in light touches that she can barely. They make her skin stand up in goosebumps, and Ryder shivers. Somehow, Jaal manages to make this feel cold. Then, her biotics surge up to meet a wave of new electricity. Indigo shifts to dark blue, almost black, and electricity threatens to overwhelm her shields once more. Ryder marshals all of her willpower and pulls her biotics tighter around herself. Her biotics don’t glow as much with this new dark color, and the electricity somehow makes a dull buzzing noise that drowns out all other sounds and numbs her sense of hearing. Ryder gasps, and Jaal immediately pulls away. He inspects Ryder’s face carefully, and she flaps her hand at him. “I’m fine, I’m fine,” she pants out. “Just got a little overwhelmed.”

Jaal takes a step away from her and says, “I have never felt my signals become so strong before.”

Ryder gives him a thumbs-up and lets biotic energy crackle across her hand once for emphasis. Now, it’s back to its original color. “Guess that’s one hypothesis that turned out alright,” she says, trying to cheer him up.

“Signals are logged and loaded, Pathfinder,” SAM says. “Are there any other signals you wish to log in?”

Ryder glances over at Jaal. He’s staring down at his hands and then at Ryder with wonder suffusing his bright eyes. Ryder squints at him and swears that she could see stars in his eyes. He might be shocked at her biotic light display, but she thinks he has his own light display trapped in the irises of his eyes. “Okay, do you have any other emotions you want included?” Ryder asks. “Give me what you’ve got, Poncho.” She adds the nickname for some levity.

Jaal tilts his head to the side, and Ryder sees his side-folds twitch. He extends his hand out and Ryder holds it carefully before she summons her biotic energy back up. She cups both of her hands around his large hand and channels the most energy around their hands.

“This is what most angara use to express shock,” Jaal says before he sends one sharp spike of energy through her hands. It’s like a lightning strike: brief and ephemeral but bracing in its strength.

“Oof, that was a big one,” Ryder huffs out. She readjusts her grip on his hand. “I actually felt that one pretty sharply.”

Jaal offers up an apologetic smile and says, “This one is for disappointment.” This signal is slower than the others, but it seeps into Ryder’s shield slowly and surely. It shifts the color from blue to an almost sea-green, teal color. The sensation of his electricity prickles at her skin. It’s not painful, but it’s definitely and obviously there.

“You know, I bet if the Initiative could communicate like this, Addison and Tann would be shooting this signal at me every single minute of every single day,” Ryder snorts.

“Inii-tii-aa-tive?” Jaal asks. “Aadiison?”

Ryder remembers the pinched frown on Addison’s and Tann’s face when Ark Hyperion first docked onto the Nexus. Well, there was hope there, brief and shining, but it all crashed down when they learned that her father was dead. She was no Alec Ryder in their eyes, and frankly, that was the truth. She is not her father. She’s his daughter, and for now, they’ll have to satisfy themselves with that. She sighs, “The Initiative is what I’m part of, remember? The entire Pathfinder business is with the Initiative. Addison and Tann are people from the Initiative who are regularly disappointed with me.”

Jaal frowns and tugs Ryder closer. “I do not understand why they would be disappointed with you,” he grumbles.

Ryder laughs, “Think about it. I haven’t been able to send back feedback or reports for the past month or so because I was trapped on a planet by aliens.” She uses one hand to gesture over to Jaal and then to the tightly-shut door. “I wasn’t the Pathfinder they wanted, and I don’t think I’ve improved my track record in recent weeks either. Actually, they might think I’m dead.”

“Slow down, slow down,” Jaal complains. His gaze flicks over Ryder’s mouth, trying to concentrate on how she’s shaping out her words. The folds on the sides of his face bend closer to Ryder, as if he were straining to hear better.

Ryder exhales, slow and steady, before she says, “Sorry. It’s hard to explain. God, I wish the translator was done already so I could just talk, but to clarify, I  wasn’t supposed to be the Pathfinder.”

Jaal’s brow wrinkles. “Is Pathfinder not your name?” he asks.

Ryder chuckles. _Pas-findar_ , he called her. Well, she supposes that he still calls her that, but SAM’s rudimentary translator morphs his syllables just enough to make it sound coherent. Damn, she really wants her translator done and ready right now. She clears her throat and explains, “No, Sara Ryder is. Pathfinder is my title, my job. It’s what I’m supposed to do. I’m supposed to go out there and find a home for my people. Finding paths. Discovery. That’s what being the Pathfinder means.”

“Ah,” Jaal says with a sagely nod. He pauses and then points out, “Then, you would not have been able to do your job in recent times.”

“No, I haven’t,” Ryder says with a shake of her head. “Unless you count the multiple paths I’ve walked from the bed to the chair and from the bed to the door. That’s some great path-finding, huh?” Frustration bleeds into her words no matter how much she tries to hold it back, but the truth remains that she’s so ridiculously behind on her work. Her father didn’t die for her to languish in an alien prison. He died so that she could have a second chance at life, and she wasn’t going to waste it. She even had a brother back on Ark Hyperion and an entire civilization’s worth of people to fight for. Every day she wastes here means another day’s worth of resources wasted on the Nexus. The world and her life all seem like ticking time bombs, waiting to go off, and Ryder doesn’t know when the end-date will be.

Jaal looks so inexplicably sad, and the biotics around Ryder’s hand flickers a brief black, confirming her suspicions. “Then, here is my next signal,” he says. _“Vaasha._ It is a word we use to express how we feel the same as others.”

“Sympathy?” Ryder asks. She opens her mouth to say something more, but Jaal cups her hand carefully to exude electricity that mimics the same ebb and flow of her own energy. She can’t feel it as distinctly as she felt other emotions, but she can still feel the distinct touch of Jaal’s energy flickering up and down her biotics.

“Is that what you would call it in your language?” Jaal inquires.

“Probably,” Ryder says with a shrug. She bites her lower lip, unsure of how to phrase her next words. “And… Thanks,” she finally says. “This really means a lot to me, Jaal. Thank you for taking the time to do this with me, and thanks for not killing me about it.”

Jaal huffs out a laugh that rumbles through his chest, almost like a cat’s purr back on Earth or the Citadel. He pats Ryder’s hand with his other hand and says, “I will admit, I did not trust you. The last time we met aliens, it was the kett. It was… Difficult. Hard to trust you. But I think we are doing something different this time. A trust fall.”

“Yep,” Ryder exhales. “And once we get this translator going, then I think we can really improve communications and relations.” She taps his other hand with her free hand, trying to replicate his gesture too. “Any other signals you want me to include in the program?”

Jaal considers her words before he lets go of her hands. He fidgets with his fingers before he reaches out to cup Ryder’s face. Her eyes go wide, and she can see Jaal’s pupils dilate. But then, he shuts his eyes and lets his electricity flow freely from every inch of his skin instead of the concentrated pulses of energy he exuded from his hands. Ryder watches as her biotics crackle and turn the color of a perfect summer afternoon sky: pure blue that dances on the edge between blue and white. Then, her biotics ripple and bloom into a sunset’s worth of colors. Lavender — the same shade as Jaal’s skin — and pink, blue and deeper purple, and wisps of white that flitter in and out of the various colors suffuse the space between them. Ryder gasps as she feels something warm and radiant between them, and it makes her entire body feel… Safe. Comforted. Warm. Gentle. She doesn’t know how to quite describe it, but she thinks those are the words to describe it if she had to.

“Okay,” she breathes out. “Then what does this one mean?”

Jaal pulls away from her and slowly pulls his hands away from her face. A blue flush crosses his lavender cheeks before he mutters, “I will let you know later.”

“That’s not really helpful, Poncho,” Ryder frowns. “Come on, what does it mean?”

“I will let you know later,” Jaal insists.

Ryder’s frown deepens. She needs all the help she can get with the translator program, but a more selfish part of her is also desperately curious to know. But when Jaal gets that look on his face, she knows she won’t be able to push for more information. “Ugh, fine,” she says instead. She saves all the different signals on her omnitool before she opens her fabrication program. “Pass me that wrench-looking thing then.” She points to the toolbox left forgotten at Jaal’s feet.

Jaal glances down and back up at Ryder with a helpless expression etched on his face.“What is a wrench-looking??” he asks.

Ryder sighs heavily and squats down to inspect the toolbox. “It’s fine, I’ll just get it myself,” she mutters. “You know what? I can’t wait until we get this thing going. Then, we don’t have to suffer through this thing.”

Jaal and Ryder then proceed to spend their days and nights, hunkered over a small motherboard Ryder fabricates with a canister of omni-gel. It isn’t her finest work, but her omnitool manages to handle it. She silently thanks her father for all the hours he labored over her omnitool and her implant. It feels like a gift from him to her now, and she treats her omnitool like her most precious possession. Jaal also proves to be far quicker and faster with alien tech than Ryder ever expected him to be. She supposes that his stories about messing with kett guns and devices were all true and exceptionally accurate then.

She doesn’t see Vetra or Liam or Cora or anyone else for a solid week or two. Ryder can’t remember if it’s two weeks or one now. Even when they ask to speak with her, she shakes her head and tells the other angaran guards that she’s busy. It’s amazing how time manages to fly in the face of a new project, and Ryder attacks the project with a gusto that surprises even her. She didn’t know the extent of her feelings of helplessness and uselessness in this room until now. The feeling of tools in her hands is a sensation that she savors. SAM drones instructions on and on in her ear, and she tries to follow them as best as she can. Sometimes, she messes up and has to start all over again, but Jaal is there as well to help and guide her.

They test out a couple more words and add more vocabulary and grammar to SAM’s database on Shelesh. Jaal doesn’t question or ask why, and Ryder’s grateful for that. She doesn’t know how she could explain a super-powerful AI implanted in her brain at her current linguistic capacity. They run through nouns, verbs, and conjugations before they start trading longer phrases, idioms, and jokes that don’t translate very well.  _Vesoan_ for explorer, _voneraan_ for astronomer, _jarevaon_ for galaxy, and _novoa_ for day. SAM stacks up the words and keeps them all safe while Ryder and Jaal talk.

Jaal adores the project even more than Ryder herself and frequently comes back with different bits and pieces from angaran tech. She thinks they’re transistors, wires, and hard drives, but she genuinely can’t tell. There’s one piece that Ryder suspects is a circuit, but the wiring and the style of use is so vastly different than the ones she’s used to. The principle of the circuit is still essentially the same; it channels electricity in a closed loop. But the shape and design of the loop is so strange to Ryder. At one point, he closes his hands over Ryder’s own hands to guide her through some tricky bit of wiring. She inexplicably blushes a deep scarlet. Jaal’s chest is pressed flat to Ryder’s back as he helps her, and she’s so grateful that he can’t see her blush and then ask about it. She blinks rapidly and tries to focus back on the task at hand.

But they do it. They finally do it. Jaal builds a small outer case for the motherboard that can hook it up to his own angaran devices. It’s much larger and bulkier than Ryder originally imagined, but it’s good enough for a first attempt. She also figures that angaran scientists can fiddle around with the design and adapt it towards smaller integrated chips in their own devices. She just needs to take the first step forward and lay down the first path.

She watches Jaal strap it onto his other head fold. His visor is safely ensconced on the other side, and he’s made some adjustments so that he can integrate it more easily in his own suite of technology. Ryder drums her fingers against the edge of her bed. She figures that it’s better to be sitting already in case something good or bad happens. That way, she can just slump back on the bed and gather up the patience to try again.

Finally, Jaal gets everything ready and tentatively asks, “Is this alright?”

SAM whirs in her ear before he confirms, “Programs are ready to run, Pathfinder.”

“Is it… Is it working?” Ryder tries.

Jaal’s face slowly spreads into a wide grin and now, he takes a step forward and says, “Say something different, something longer. Ramble like you always do.”

“I do _not_ ramble,” Ryder says hotly. “You just have a harder time understanding me. Well, that part’s completely understandable because, you know, we’re aliens to each other and all that. But I don’t _ramble._ Everything I say usually has some sort of purpose to it, and I can’t help the fact that you don’t understand everything that I say sometimes. You probably do the same thing all the time, and I just can’t understand the entirety of it.” She pauses and blinks. Ryder laughs ruefully, “I’m rambling now.”

“Yes, you are,” Jaal says with the widest grin she’s ever seen him wear. “But you sound bright and clear, Pathfinder.” Ryder blinks at him. Her jaw is wide open, and she can’t move her tongue properly to form real, human words. Jaal only laughs — the same, familiar rumble in his chest — and says, “This is wonderful. This is brilliant.” His eyes focus on Ryder — _stars gleaming bright among the blue_ — and he says with utmost confidence, _“You_ are brilliant, Sara Ryder.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> translations:  
>  **vaasha** — sympathy, derived from “vaasa-nari” ("a shared soul," possibly meaning twins) and “taoshay” (loved one). i tried to make it mean “to share one’s feelings” or smth like that.  
>  **vesoan** — explorer (canon word)  
>  **voneraan** — astronomer (canon word)  
>  **jarevaon** — galaxy (canon word)  
>  **novoa** — day (canon word)
> 
> yeehaw we're finally getting somewhere, folks! hope you liked the new chapter :")


	6. running out of time

SAM lied.

Ryder runs a hand through her hair with distinct irritation when she snaps, “Okay, SAM, explain to me  _ how _ exactly an advanced AI manages to mix up the words for ‘fuck’ and ‘respect’ together?”

“I do not know, Pathfinder,” SAM responds back, dry as ever. “Perhaps you should ask Jaal Ama Darav who taught you the word first. I only receive and analyze data that you collect, Pathfinder.”

Ryder kicks the squashy chair out of sheer frustration and says, “I did  _ not _ want to tell Jaal that I wanted to  _ fuck _ him. I wanted to tell him that I  _ respected _ him while we were working yesterday.”

Thankfully, Jaal took it relatively well and added corrections to their translation program afterwards. That didn’t change how embarrassed Ryder was though.

She hears a knock on the door and she rounds on her heel, ready to dish out one final passive-aggressive insult for SAM. However, she sees only the bare wall. Ryder groans and mentally reminds herself that there is no one to punch or deride. She supposes she could punch SAM Node, but then, she’d bruise her knuckles. She hears a knock on the door again, and Ryder settles for pinching herself. It hurts a little bit for her, but that also means the same thing for SAM.

“You are being what Alec would call ‘immature,’ Pathfinder,” SAM says. His tone remains serene and calm as ever, and Ryder scowls before she pinches herself again. 

“Pathfinder, are you busy?” Jaal calls out beyond the door. “Do you not have your clothes on? Or are you sleeping?” 

Ryder distinctly remembers how she taught Jaal about the importance of knocking in human culture after Jaal walked in on her changing clothes. She really doesn’t know how she ends up in these kinds of situations as frequently as she does, but at least it was better than some other incidents. If she remembers correctly, she went into the wrong shower at a Citadel spa once. She also locked herself out of her room after taking a shower in the communal bathroom during college once too. She had to stand outside her door, dripping water all over the carpet and clutching her towel even closer to her, while she waited for the R.A. to unlock her door. 

Ryder clears her throat and tries to regain her composure. She walks over to open the door and says, “Hi, Jaal.”

He smiles and holds up his bag of tools to show Ryder. “Good morning, Pathfinder,” he says.

Ryder groans, “I’ve told you this before. Ryder’s fine. Sara if you wanna be casual about it. I call you by your first name all the time. I don’t go around calling you Ama Darav or Resistance fighter.”

Jaal shakes his head and tuts, “Ah, but you call me Poncho sometimes. And if you want to call me a Resistance fighter, you may call me a handsome Resistance fighter.” He side-steps around Ryder — a sheer miracle in her opinion considering his relative size — and settles down on the squashy chair. 

Ryder shuts the door and snorts, “In your dreams, big guy.” She activates her omnitool once the door is securely shut and loads up the program they’re working on.

Jaal pulls out his tools — small tweezers, delicate picks, various wires spun in spirals — and glances at Ryder. “They use me on recruitment advertisements, you know,” he says with a smug smile.

Ryder looks up from her interface and asks, “Excuse me?”

The smug smile only deepens on Jaal’s face as he adds, “The Resistance uses my photos on recruitment advertising.” He gestures over to Ryder’s omnitool. “In fact, the program that I installed onto your omnitool uses a Resistance recruitment photo as the basis for the light modeling.”

“No way,” Ryder laughs. She sets the program aside and pulls up Jaal’s personal application on her interface. The omnitool’s light fades to a deeper blue, and white sparks start whirling over the expanse of blue. She holds her arm out for Jaal, and he placed his hand over the interface to activate the picture. Ryder watches the image form. It really does make him look brave, majestic almost. She can’t really equate that image of him with what she currently knows about Jaal. The image bears no trace of his silliness or fondness; it exudes only cool confidence. The rebel aesthetic for the angara, she supposes. Absolutely ridiculous in her opinion. Ryder snorts, “Great, so you’re a model, a technician, a Resistance fighter, what else?”

“A genius?” Jaal tries.

Ryder rolls her eyes. “Nice try, Poncho.”

Jaal settles back down with his tools, but his shit-eating smile is still firmly in place. “Thank you, Ryder. I try,” he laughs as he pulls out the device from the bottom of his bag. He screws the back off to reveal the motherboard, and Ryder clicks back to the right program.

“So I guess it’s Round Three with adjustments, huh?” she says as she taps in a couple of commands.

“Round Four, I think,” Jaal answers as he taps one thin filament against the motherboard. He tests it with an experimental zap of his bioelectricity and looks up at Ryder when he’s satisfied with whatever reading he receives back. 

“Round Four,” Ryder exhales. She taps against the program and lets SAM into the connection. “Great. Let’s get to it then.”

They build after that. The main sounds come from the program and its test sounds. Occasionally, either Ryder or Jaal test the translator out by speaking out loud and seeing if the meaning translates over. Jaal has a separate smaller device to his side — one that he built by himself — that would integrate more easily with angaran technology. The only issue now is the software gap between the two types of technology. 

Ryder bites her lip as she studies the program. She wasn’t trained as an engineer; she was trained as a vanguard.  Ryder was far more comfortable with biotic charges and novas rather than deploying drones or coming up with various designs. But her mother was a scientist and her father was an inventor despite being a soldier. They both insisted that she and Scott learn how to code as soon as possible. That comes into handy now, but Ryder is still hesitant on whether or not she could’ve pulled this off completely without SAM. SAM runs through various algorithms in the blink of an eye, and he loads them all up via the connection between her implant and her omnitool. Ryder still codes along the side, making sure that the program is still comprehensible to human standards. The work makes time fly, and Jaal’s help speeds up the mechanical side of the process even more. 

Ryder doesn’t even realize that hours have passed until her stomach growls in protest. She lets her hand fall limply to her side and finally feels the ache in her fingers after typing for so long. Hunger gnaws at the edge of her thoughts and makes a sudden realization strike through her mind with more speed than the storms of Habitat 7. “How long has it been?” she asks slowly.

“About three hours,” Jaal says. He sets the devices aside and stands up. “I can go get food for us if you would like.”

SAM, however, answers, “It has been one month, three weeks, and two days since your arrival on Aya, Pathfinder.” 

“No,” Ryder breathes out, absolutely aghast. Vetra said that the rations for the crew would last about two months. She’s running out of time. No, she’s  _ out _ of time. She looks up, eyes dilated wide with desperation. “Jaal, how many rations do I have? How much food is left for my crew?” 

Jaal shifts in his place, and Ryder gets up to stride closer to him. “Jaal, I asked you a question,” she says, her voice rising higher. “How many rations do we have left?”

He ducks his head and folds the sides of his face tightly inward. “Not much,” he admits. “Our scientists are trying to study the food and replicate the various structures in it, but I do not know if they have succeeded yet.”

Ryder reaches out to grip Jaal’s rofjinn and says, “Jaal, I need to get to the Tempest. I need to get back to my shop and get the lab equipment running again, check on the plants we’re growing, make emergency paste. Your scientists don’t have to synthesize them. We already know how!”

“I cannot,” Jaal says, looking down at her with wide, blue eyes. Ryder stares at the black and blue that shimmer in his eyes and wonders if she’s at the end of the tunnel. She lets go of the fabric, willing each and every finger to relax. Takes a step back. Takes a deep breath in.

“You will have to talk to Evfra about it,” Jaal says quietly. “Only he has the authority to approve your presence outside these quarters and the laboratories. You will have to speak to him, use the translator…” He trails off and gestures to the devices beside the squashy chair. “You will have to tell Evfra about this soon.”

“I know,” Ryder exhales. “But he’s just so… You know.”

“I know,” Jaal nods. “I work with him every day. He is a good man, but he can be abrasive at first.”

“At first?” Ryder snorts, incredulous disbelief coloring her voice.

“That is a lie. Almost always,” Jaal chuckles. His expression sobers and he lays a hand on Ryder’s shoulder. “But he used to be kinder, softer, before the kett took his family.”

“Ah. I think that’s understandable,” Ryder admits.

Jaal’s voice grows tighter, more bitter, as he says, “The kett are… Abominable. A monstrosity that deserves to be eradicated, just like they are trying to eradicate my people.”

Ryder looks up at him and realizes that the pressure of his hand on her shoulder is growing. And… And Jaal is shaking. “Did they… Did they ever take any of your family?” she tries.

Jaal exhales now as well. Slow, shuddering, heaving. “Brothers. Sisters,” he says. There is another moment more of hesitation before he says, “My father.”

“Oh,” Ryder says, at a loss for words. She gathers her thoughts up and says, “I’m so sorry, Jaal. I didn’t mean to pry.”

Jaal shakes his head and walks back over to the squashy chair. It sinks down and adjusts to his body when he sits. “Grief is grief, loss is loss,” he says, “If we do not talk about it, then we will never move on.”

Ryder remains standing, but she awkwardly folds her hands behind her back. “Is that how angara deal with it?” she asks.

Jaal nods, “Yes, in most cases. We share emotions freely and comfortably. Holding all of that inside of you is a pointless waste of time and does not resolve the problem as easily. Do humans treat grief differently?”

Ryder makes a face and shrugs. “Well, according to the angara, we would waste time. We’re generally not as comfy with revealing all of that emotion,” she says. She counts with her fingers as she lists, “Most people tend to cry, lash out, get angry during the first couple of stages, but it’s usually with the people that we trust.” She wryly laughs. “Some people never even talk about it with other people.”

“Never?” Jaal gasps. “How do your people survive?!”

Ryder shrugs again. “With a couple of scars, both on the outside and the inside. It’s just one way of how we cope. Again, not all people do it, but it’s a general trend across my species,” she says. She knows grief too well now. She should know. One mother, one father, one brother, all gone and far beyond her reach. Well, she amends that thought in her head. She still has her brother, but he’s still beyond her reach.

“Then, would it be rude if I asked you how the kett have impacted you and your group?” Jaal inquires. “Your family? How has my galaxy treated your people so far?”

“Ah.”

Jaal blinks rapidly before he hurries to say, “I am sorry if I crossed a line.”

“No. It just…” Ryder trails off. She thinks about her father pulling his helmet off and placing it over her head. Kirkland’s body bleeding out on Habitat 7 with lighting sizzling and striking around him. Hayes wincing in pain on the ground and Greer struggling to get up after being dealt wounds from the kett. She realizes that the silence has been too long and hurries to add, “It just hurts to think about sometimes. I’ll answer, don’t worry. You’re a… I’d call you a friend. Yeah, that seems about right. A friend. I’ll tell you.”

She sucks in a deep breath and says, “We arrived 600 years after we left our own galaxy. And when we arrived, we collided with the Scourge. You know, the cloud of dark energy floating around in space.” She gestures aimlessly at the window as she speaks. “It messed with our tech, and it messed with my brother while he was in the revival process. He’s not dead thankfully, but he’s comatose, unconscious, unresponsive. I don’t know if any of those words translated over correctly, so stop me if you can’t understand.” Ryder sighs and twists her hands together. “I’m rambling, but that’s the beginning. Not exactly kett-related, but the start. After that mishap, my father — the original Pathfinder — went down to Habitat 7 to try and figure out what to do next. That’s where we found the kett.” 

Ryder’s mouth sets into a bitter frown and she continues, “We tried establishing a peaceful first contact with them. But no. They shot us, killed one of our team, and attacked us with invisible creatures and strange guns. And for what? A wreck of a planet that we couldn’t even live on? My father died for that?” She shakes her head and finds that there are tears gathering in her eyes. She rubs at her eyes with rough motions and says, “My helmet cracked on that world. Even after all that bullshit with the kett and the shitty environment, my helmet cracked and I ran out of air. My father took his helmet off for me. I survived, he didn’t. So that’s how Heleus has treated us so far. That’s that.”

Jaal looks horrified when she says that, and he leans over to place his hands on Ryder’s shoulders. “I am sorry,” he breathes out. “You did not have to speak about it if you did not want to.”

Ryder casts her gaze off into some other corner of the room. Just anywhere else that isn’t Jaal and his wide, expressive eyes. “It’s fine, really, it is.”

“It is not,” Jaal insists. “You said that humans didn’t speak about their grief as much as the angara do, yes? But we must process this. Angara depend on their family to help with this, so that is why family is important. But… You have none now, yes?

“Well,” Ryder starts out. Jaal gives her a glare, and Ryder looks away again. “Not really, no.”

Jaal stands up abruptly, and Ryder stumbles back a couple of steps. She almost falls back on the bed which would have been terribly embarrassing, but Jaal sweeps her up into a big hug. “Hey, big guy” are the only words she manages to get out before this giant alien angara man picks her up off the ground in a crushing hug. Her biotics flare up in instinctive sparks on her skin and sizzle when they come into contact with Jaal’s electric field. Her feet  _ dangle _ from his grip, and Ryder almost protests. However, his blue rofjinn muffles any sounds she makes. He sets her back down gently, and when Ryder looks up, she sees that his eyes are wet with unshed tears.  _ Oh boy, _ she thinks.  _ The angara really are emotional. _

“Family is important,” he declares again. “Your grief is important, but you do not have family to support you in your feelings. I will keep you company and hear your grief out in their stead.”

In all rights, he’s doing fantastically as an emotional support. But somehow, Ryder can’t bring herself to let go of the frustration of waiting that’s gathered in her heart for the past two months. “You’re technically my guard,” Ryder points out. “I can’t leave and I can’t do anything, so I’m technically a prisoner. Even worse, I’m technically a prisoner that gets experimented on. I can’t go home, and I can’t go see my twin brother. I can’t leave. Ever.” Grief and frustration sharpen the edge of her voice too much, and she only realizes it when Jaal thrums a low, familiar vibration from his skin that turns her biotics black. Sadness. Ryder sighs and tries to adopt a more gentle tone. “You’re my friend, Jaal, but we can’t deny the facts here. I need to move on. I need to get out and pick up where my father left off. I need to save my brother and find a home for my people.”

Jaal purses his lips together. He peers directly into Ryder’s eyes before he sets her down with impossible gentleness. “I will do my best,” he promises. “I will try for you.”

“Thanks, Jaal,” Ryder says, her throat nearly choked up. She always forgets how much the thought of her dad or her brother makes her so…. Weepy. Emotional. Weak. But looking at Jaal makes her reconsider the last part of that. “Thanks,” she repeats again. She just doesn’t know what to say.

Jaal leans down to pick up their device and pockets it before heading over to the door.  _ “Isharay,” _ Ryder quickly calls out after him.

He pauses and glances back. The sound of the Shelesh goodbye makes his lips curl up into a smile. “Goodbye,” he says in English. He opens the door and whistles for another guard to stand watch outside her door. Just before he leaves, he says softly, “Stay strong, Sara. Stay strong and clear.”

The door shuts, and Ryder’s left in silence again. 

_ What a guy _ , she thinks to herself as she slumps on her bed. What kind of alien gets that weepy over someone else’s problem? It’s not his grief, but he shoulders it and shares it and willingly offers a hug to another alien despite his terrible experience with other species. She hugs herself and wraps her hands on her shoulders. Her hands are still relatively warm and thrumming with leftover biotics and bioelectricity flashback from Jaal.

Ryder settles for staring at the wall aimlessly, but SAM pipes up in her ear to say, “Pathfinder.”

Ryder doesn’t respond.

“Pathfinder?” SAM tries again.

“Yeah?” Ryder says. She has to give in at some point. It’s not like SAM is ever going to get out of her head, so she might as well talk with him now. “Go on.”

“I wanted to ask if you were alright, Pathfinder,” SAM answers. His voice is still robotic and flat enough for her to hear zero emotion in it, but the words strike her more. What was it with people and being emotionally available today? 

Ryder heaves out a heavy sigh and says, “Oh, you know, just the usual, SAM. I worked on the damn program and translator device, realized that we’re all running out of food, had a wonderful conversation about my dead father and my comatose brother, and remembered that I’m a prisoner who can’t do anything else other than to comply with experiments and instructions. I’m doing just  _ peachy, _ SAM, what about you?”

“I am always here for you, Pathfinder,” SAM answers. “You are doing well considering the circumstances you are in. Compared to my database of previous psychological and linguistic studies, you are achieving great things. Do not worry, you are doing well.”

“At least someone has faith in me,” Ryder grumbles. She rolls over to lie back on the bed and stretches her limbs out. “Do you think we’ll get off Aya, SAM?”

“My calculations indicate that —” 

“I don’t want calculations, SAM,” Ryder interrupts. “I want what you think.”

SAM pauses, and Ryder fancies she can hear him whirring. Then, he goes silent for a few moments before saying, “I think so, Pathfinder. I think so.”

“Alright, I’ll take it,” Ryder whispers. “I’ll take whatever hope I can get.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> translations:  
>  **isharay** — goodbye (canon word)
> 
> whew i've been snowed in all day, so i just sat down and churned this chapter out. thank you for all of your kind comments and support!! it rly motivates me to write even faster + i'll try to write the next chapter asap. thanks!!


	7. tempest's heart

_ “Paavoa, _ Evfra.”

Ryder stands there, hand still extended out to clasp Evfra’s shoulders in the usual angaran greeting. However, Evfra dodges it and stands there, hands to his side. She holds her hand out in that uncomfortable silence before she finally retracts it and bites her bottom lip. 

Evfra folds his arms as he regards her with a keen, piercing glare. “They say you speak Shelesh now,” he says. Ryder’s translator makes his voice rumble in the familiar sounds of English, but he derision is still loud and clear. Evfra gestures over to Ryder. “Speak, alien. Show us what you’ve learned so far.”

It truly does astound Ryder to see how much contempt and pride Evfra manages to exude across language barriers. She almost snaps something back in response, but Jaal beats her to it as he chides, “Evfra, that is too rude.”

Evfra snorts, “You told me that she could speak, Jaal. That’s why I’ve reassigned you to her. Let me see what you two have been spending the last few months on.”

Ryder bites back her irritation. She’s just as prideful as Evfra, and his words sting. But she’s the Pathfinder. She’s here to establish a better First Contact with the angara compared to the trainwreck of First Contact with the kett. “I know you don’t trust me,” she says in English. She scrambles to find the right words in Shelesh and finally says,  _ “Paasa nai savaas, _ Evfra de Tershav.  _ Esana. _ I’m sorry.”

She hesitates for a moment, wondering what to say. “Hey, SAM, remember how I practiced that speech im the bathroom over and over again?” she whispers under her breath. She makes sure to speak quietly enough so that Jaal can’t hear her. He doesn’t know about SAM yet, and she’d rather keep it that way. At least, until a better time comes up for it. 

In her ear, SAM says, “Yes, Pathfinder. Would you like me to run your speech through the translator program?” 

Ryder nods and listens as SAM supplies the words she’s been gathering for the past two months. She hears the words in her ear and lets them flow off her tongue, ignoring the way her accent warps some of the syllables. “But I understand,” she says in her stilted Shelesh. “I wouldn’t trust aliens after the kett. But I believe that we can work together.” She taps her chest, mimicking angaran custom. “My name is Sara Ryder, and I am the Pathfinder for my people. We come from the Milky Way galaxy in search of a new home.”

Evfra’s eyes narrow on her from the very minute Ryder launches into her speech. He glances over at Jaal, ignoring Ryder, and says, “Ah, so you have taught the creature more of our tongue. She picked it up very quickly. Your doing, I assume?”

Jaal clicks his tongue with disapproval. “Her name is Ryder, Evfra. Pathfinder, if you will, instead of creature. And she taught me much as well,” he says all while steadily gazing at Ryder.

“Mmm,” Evfra says. Disinterest colors his tone, and Ryder resists the urge to snap at him. Evfra turns back to Ryder and says, “And what makes you think you could come to Aya? It’s an aggressive move, landing here. It is our shelter, our city, our home.”

“I’ll admit, landing here the way we did, without warning, on fire, wasn’t our plan,” Ryder says. She can’t help but huff out a soft laugh with that. Never in her wildest dreams would she have expected this.  _ Welcome to Andromeda, galaxy of unknown surprises, _ she thinks ruefully.

That manages to get a snort of laughter out of Jaal. “It would have been a terrible plan,” he says. A hint of a smile flickers around the edges of his expression.

“It was,” Ryder says with a shrug. 

Evfra’s gaze flicks to Jaal before he settles on Ryder again. “So. Why are you here other than to display your newfound linguistic skills?” He spreads his hands out and says, “You have something you want. Everyone does.”

Ryder’s expression sobers, and the smile drops off her face. “My crew will starve,” she says. “We’re hitting the last of our rations, and your people won’t figure out how to use our technology to synthesize more food for us until it’s too late. I would like to request access to my ship and my equipment again so that I can provide for my people.”

Evfra starts pacing now, following a slow track from his original position by his desk to the window. “What makes you so sure about that?” he asks. “Access to your ship means that you can leave, that you can attack. There are a number of different ways that this could go wrong.” He stops and turns to pin Ryder with a withering glare. “My job, Pathfinder, is to analyze and eliminate risks for my people. You should not go beyond your place.”

“Your job is the same as mine and even more than that,” Ryder counters. “My job is exactly that: to go beyond my place. There are a lot of benefits to letting me back on my ship.” Ryder takes in a deep breath.  _ Always be prepared,  _ Alex always said, and Ryder keeps herself true to that statement. She came prepared with a list of reasons. “One,” she starts. She holds up her hand and starts ticking a list off with her fingers. “If you let Jaal go on my ship with me, he can learn more about my technology and bring it back to your people. Two. If you let my crew die, you lose valuable test subjects for your scientists.”

Evfra rolls his shoulders back and rumbles, “Alien, you talk too much.” He glances over to Jaal and asks, “How did she learn so much so fast?”

Oh, Ryder doesn’t like that. She gets enough interruptions from her own crew when she drafts out team plans. For once, she wants someone to listen to her completely before lashing back. She clears her throat and says pointedly, “I wasn’t finished.” She takes care to use a Shelesh phrase that indicated irritation according to Jaal. “Three,” she says, holding up three fingers. “Give me back my ship and my crew, and I will give you something else in return.”

Evfra laughs, low and booming. “What could you possibly give me that I don’t already have?” he asks.

Ryder arches an eyebrow and says, “Communication.”

“What?” Evfra asks. For once, Ryder sees the note of confusion in his eyes. In her ear, SAM tells her the frequency of his bioelectricity field, and Ryder knows that she’s taken him off guard for sure with that piece of information.

Ryder leans back, putting most of her body weight on one foot, and folds her arms. A perfect imitation of Evfra’s posture. “I’ve built a device that will let us communicate freely,” she answers. “A translator for the angara and for mine.” She fishes in her pocket for the small device. “I built this during my stay here on Aya,” she says, tossing the device up and down in her palm. “It’s been tested, and it works. Let me have access to my ship again so that I can feed my friends, and I’ll give you the translator.”

“Interesting,” Evfra says as he taps his arm with his fingers. Ryder’s seen Jaal do that a number of times, so she supposes it’s another gesture of curiosity, of interest. Good. She needs Evfra to stay interested rather than murderous. Evfra blinks once, twice, before he asks, “So, you learned Shelesh and built a translator all by yourself within the span of two months?”

“I had the help of a friend,” Ryder says honestly. She speaks it in Shelesh slowly, and although her tongue slips over the words with unpracticed awkwardness, she hopes that the sincerity will come through. Without SAM, none of this would have been possible. However, Ryder sees Evfra turn his glare on Jaal. Jaal stares at Ryder, mouth slightly open, before he clamps it shut and flashes her a brilliant grin.

Oh. Oh. Ryder feels her cheeks heat up and realizes that Jaal was integral to the process as well. And if anything else, he was as much of a friend and helper as SAM with his tireless efforts and constant tinkering. Yes, yes, Ryder would not be opposed to calling him a friend. A friend that offers jokes and stories while fiddling with alien tech and offering giant hugs. SAM was invaluable, but so was Jaal. 

Evfra intensifies his glare when he notices Jaal’s smile grow brighter, and Jaal’s gaze flicks over to Evfra. Jaal sheepishly ducks his head in a slight bow to Evfra, and Evfra gives him a small huff of annoyance. “I see,” Evfra grumbles. “Very well. You may have access to your ship, but Jaal must be with you at all times. I will station additional guards near your ship as well. Jaal, report back everything to me. Now. The translator.” He holds his hand out expectantly.

Ryder drops the device in his hand and says, “Here. Go right ahead. It should clip directly onto your, ah, you know, folds. If you have a visor, you can clip it onto that instead.” She watches at Evfra clumsily clips it onto the side of his head. If Ryder had to compare it to anything, she would say that it looks like a clunky clip-on earring that some Citadel stores sold for younger children. Her father never bought her one, but she saw some of her asari and turian classmates sport them on their fringes. Jaal goes over to help Evfra clip it on. 

“It’s just a prototype,” Ryder admits, now in English. “But we can adapt and integrate it into other pieces of technology. We would just need to adjust the base program so that it aligns with your technology. Then, your people can download it and communicate with mine.”

Jaal steps back and Evfra looks up. “And are you speaking Shelesh now?” he asks.

Matching smiles curl across Jaal’s and Ryder’s lips, and Ryder shakes her head. “No, it’s all English,” she says with a delighted laugh. “That device only works with English right now, but with a few more adjustments, I can incorporate a base translator in for other species like the asari and the turians.”

Evfra squints at her. “And you are… Human, yes?”

Ryder nods. “Yep, 100% human. That’s why I used English as the default translation, but again, we can adapt it over to other languages given some time.” 

The tenseness in Evfra’s shoulders eases, and he gestures to Ryder. “Very well. Go. Go back to your ship and get your supplies,” he says with a sigh. He turns back to his word with the translator still clipped on, but he says, “Jaal, remember your duty.”

Jaal dips his head in another bow as he says, “Yes, Evfra. I’ll send the report right away.” He flashes a thumbs-up at Ryder — a gesture he learned from her — and Ryder gives him the angaran version by flapping her left hand sideways.  

Jaal guides her out of the Resistance compound, and at one point, he grabs Ryder’s hand because she gets too distracted looking at the architecture. She still cranes her head to get a better look at Aya and the buildings before Jaal herds her to the Tempest. Guards start to join them in a patrol to the place where Kallo first landed. Jaal pulls her more closely to his side, and she hisses, “What’s the deal, Jaal?”

He glances at the guards around them and says, “Be careful. The more you look around, the more suspicious you will seem to the others.” His words are blockier, more awkwardly pronounced, and Ryder squints at Jaal’s lips. The words he shapes out are more in line with English rather than Shelesh, and she glances back at the guards. No one seems to understand. 

Ryder sighs before she nods and reaches up to pat Jaal’s shoulder. “Sorry,” she says. “And thanks for keeping an eye out for me.” She snorts a little bit to herself. “I guess you’re watching my six, huh?”

“Watching your six?” Jaal echoes. He knits his brow together, trying to figure out the meaning, but it only makes Ryder laugh even harder.

“There was a soldier I admired in the Alliance back home. Her name was Commander Shepard,” Ryder explains. “She became the first human Spectre in the Citadel. Remember that huge artificial city I told you about before?” She pauses and waits until Jaal nods before she continues. “Yeah, that one. Don’t remember if I ever told you, but Spectres were like our secret agents, the best of the best, working for justice for all species under the Council.” She gestures out to the wide, open sky above her. They can glimpse the tall arc of the Tempest now, and Ryder sighs. “She was the first human super-agent for the Council, and she saved the Citadel. I idolized her, and when I watched her interview after the whole thing, she said that her friends watched her six. Specifically, a C-Sec turian named Garrus Vakarian, I think? But anyways, I started using that phrase all the time. And uhhhh, for the meaning? Watching her back, keeping an eye out for her, making sure nothing bad happened to her while her back was turned, you know? Yeah, I loved that phrase.”

Now, they’re in front of the Tempest, and Ryder’s swept by a sudden pang of nostalgia. She stops rambling to remember watching the vid with Scott. Wide eyes and dreams about saving a galaxy, just like Commander Shepard. Scott and Sara had matching Commander Shepard t-shirts that they wore to bed like pajamas. Ryder bites back the familiar ache that threatens to rise up and shuts her eyes. She’s here in the moment, ready to go back on the Tempest and take the first step towards freedom. 

When she opens her eyes, Jaal’s now in front of her instead of by her side. He’s still holding her hand and he leans in closer to inspect Ryder’s face. “Are you alright?” he asks. When Ryder nods, he lets out a small huff. “Good,” he says. “Are you ready to go on?” 

Ryder lets a small smile curve her lips and she softly says, “Yeah. Let’s go. I can show you my ship, show you a little bit of my world instead.” She tugs him towards her ship and unlocks it with a quick scan of her iris signature and her omnitool. SAM clicks in her ear and reconnects more fully with the SAM node on board. The lights on the Tempest flicker with light, one by one, as Ryder leads the way. The other angara guards follow them, but their jaws drop when they see the Tempest in its entirety. 

Ryder’s smile blooms into a full grin. She knows what it feels like. She felt the same way when she first stepped into the Tempest. Everything from the smooth, arcing lines of the main structures to the lights and the finish on the consoles seems perfect. She guides Jaal through the ship and gives him an impromptu tour. The tech lab entrances Jaal so much to the point where she has to tug him out. “Have you not been on here before?” she huffs.

Jaal shakes his head. He gazes up to the meeting room and the whirling overlay over their research deck. Ryder follows his gaze and looks fondly at the epicenter of her ship. There’s something missing though, something integral, something important. Ryder thinks that the Tempest lacks some of its heart without her crew. 

Jaal exhales out a low sigh and looks back at the bridge and the labs. “Evfra, Governor Shie, and a select number of scientists and technicians were the only ones allowed,” he says.

“And not you?” Ryder wonders. “You have the technical skill and experience with alien tech as well as a pretty high position in the Resistance.”

Jaal glances at her, and Ryder can see an old irritation flicker across his eyes. “Evfra thought it would be better if I remained as your guard,” he admits. “I was… Angry at the time. I thought it was a slight on my reputation and my skill. But now, I will admit that my time with you was better spent.” Ryder blinks at him. Jaal notices her wide eyes and snorts, “What? Is that such a surprise? I do not regret the time I have spent with you. In fact, I would even go as far to say that I enjoyed it. I still do.”

He glances up at the guards and clears his throat. “The ship is too small for all of you to remain inside,” he calls out. “I want two inside and keeping guard on the bridge. The rest of you should stand guard outside the ship. I’ll keep her subdued if necessary.”

One guard raises her hand and gestures over to Ryder’s and Jaal’s hands. “Are you sure about that?” she asks. She squints at Ryder, and Ryder offers a limp wave in response.

“Yes,” Jaal says. He holds up Ryder’s hand as well as his gun in the other. “I think I’m well prepared.”

The angaran guard doesn’t look convinced but she shrugs and turns on her heel. The guards file out with only two remaining on the bridge as Jaal ordered, and Ryder relaxes. She didn’t even realize she had her shoulders so tense, but now that the majority of the guards are gone, there’s a more comfortable peace and quiet compared to before. “Thanks,” she murmurs. 

Jaal squeezes her hand, and she squeezes back. Ryder glances around at the Tempest and says, “You’ve seen the med bay, the tech lab, the rooms, engineering, all of that. There’s only a couple left now. The bio lab and my quarters.” Ryder sighs and stares at the door leading to the bio lab. She doesn’t know what she has to work with yet, what kind of resources, all these and more.

Ryder presses her lips together before she takes the first step. She lets go of Jaal’s hands to stride forward and press her hands against the door. Normally, the door would open automatically, but she suspects the absence of the entire crew caused the Tempest to go dormant and shut down some of its processes like this. The light on the door’s light circles from red to green, and the door slides open.

Ryder gasps: a short burst of breath that laces shock over her face. The plants that Cora lovingly planted in the lab were fully grown. Vines and leaves spiral out of the rows and tumble across the railings of the lattices. She takes a step closer to examine them more closely. There’s a different section for dextro-based plants as well, and those flourish just as much as the others. Ryder brushes the tips of her fingers over the broad leaves and laughs breathily, overwhelmed by the sheer treasure trove of vegetation in front of her.

She can hear Jaal moving behind her, and soon, she can hear his soft gasp as he marvels at the plants too. “I heard that our scientists took some samples to study, but I did not know that these remained here,” he murmurs.

“Automated lights,” Ryder says as she tilts her head up to look at the plant lights. “Dimmed to mimic the natural days and nights on our home planets. Cora — one of my crew members, the blonde human — planted these. I think Vetra keyed in the settings for the turian plants though.” She laughs again and silently thanks Cora for her brilliant work.

Ryder bends down and rifles through the cabinets, searching for some sort of basket and clippers to harvest the crops. She starts picking off some of the lettuce, the pale carrots, and different kinds of salarian and asari plants. Ryder passes the basket to Jaal, and he tries his best, but the clippers fit best in Ryder’s hands. SAM gives her instructions on how to properly harvest the spiny turian plants, and she tries to snap off the stems in just the right way. Some sap spills out over her hands and leaves them sticky to the touch.

By the end, they have enough baskets of food to tide them over for a few days. SAM calculates different portions in order to ration out the food, and Jaal divides them up after Ryder tells him how. While Jaal does that, she moves over to a different section of the lab and starts the synthesizer up. There’s some unprocessed blocks still left in the lab that she can process into nutrient paste. Not the most delicious food ever, but Ryder supposes that beggars can’t be choosers.

“So many different varieties,” Jaal says. “And so much easier to harvest.” 

“What do you mean?” Ryder asks as she fiddles with the settings.

Jaal shrugs and says, “I was born on Havarl. It is a planet where the wilderness is changing and growing beyond what we can control. The plants there have become wilder, more dangerous, and none of us know what is causing it.”

Ryder pauses to glance at Jaal. “Wait…” she says. “Was Haval — Haral, Harvard,  _ dammit, _ Havarl — always like that?”

Jaal shakes his head. “No, it used to be a golden world,” he muses. “My ancestors thrived there. It was a lush jungle — and it still is — but it’s different now. Everything seems to be different now.”

The synthesizer rumbles as it starts processing paste, and Ryder puts away the supplies in their respective places mechanically. However, her mind races ahead with too many thoughts and hypotheses. “Pathfinder, there may be a vault on Havarl that is causing the maladaptive mutation in the local plant species as Jaal Ama Darav describes,” SAM says.

Ryder bites her lips and considers the prospect. She hasn’t told Jaal about the vaults yet. Hell, she hasn’t even had the chance to explain more about her goals and what she really wants on Aya either. Still, she thinks that it’s worth a try, especially since Jaal thinks of her more favorably now. 

“Have you ever seen something like a giant vault?” she wonders.

Jaal sets aside the baskets and blinks at her. “Vault?” he asks. “Can you be more specific than that?”

Ryder washes her hands and wipes them off. “Like a vault but with remnant tech,” she says. “My crew and I found one on Eos. Well, I don’t know what you call that planet in Shelesh, but you know that big, hot, dusty planet?”

Jaal squints at her. “Elaaden?” he offers.

Ryder shakes her head. “Maybe? I’m not sure, but it’s a giant desert of a planet. There’s an asteroid belt, an asteroid, and like, three objects in that system. We call it the Pytheas System.”

“Then no,” Jaal says. “Elaaden is in a system with an asteroid, but there are only two objects in that system. I think I know what planet you are talking about though. It’s too hot and there are too many dust storms for anyone to live there.”

Ryder moves closer, rubbing her hands together with anticipation. “Yeah, yeah, that’s it,” she says. Her eyes gleam as she says triumphantly, “But we made it viable.”

Jaal gets up now, and she can see the open curiosity blazing in his eyes. “Impossible,” he declares.

Ryder glances at the still-shut door before she says, “But we did it. There was a vault on Eos, crammed full of Remnant bots and technology. A couple of my crew and I got into the vault and managed to activate the technology and set off a purification field for the entire planet. The radioactive particles in the atmosphere are clearing up, and now, we’ve established our first outpost on Eos.” Ryder can’t help but beam at Jaal when she says that. Prodromos and its success makes her feel warm with pride.

Jaal now gapes at her. “We… We have a place like you describe. A Remnant vault,” he says, slow and careful.

Ryder almost leaps for joy when she hears those words, but she forces herself to stand still. Instead, she asks, “Is it… Is it possible for you to let me in?” 

Jaal looks positively aghast when she says it, and Ryder tries to backtrack. “I’d be happy to go into your vault with complete supervision. But let me explain, let me explain,” she says. “Remember how we pieced together the translator? I sorta did that but with Remnant technology. It’s not perfect yet, but it’s enough for me to access the rem-tech and get it to start purifying a planet again. We could do that, Jaal! We could remove the effects of the Scourge from every planet in Heleus! I just need to get inside, study the vault, and start the vault up.”

Jaal shakes his head and says, “No, no, I cannot. But, I feel if what you are saying is true…” He fiddles with his translator and secures it again before he clears his throat. “If what you are saying is true, then it could be ground-breaking. However, I cannot let you inside of our vault. The Moshae was the only one who could give you that kind of permission. No amount of convincing will ever allow you in otherwise, not from me, not from Evfra.”

“The Moshae?” Ryder echoes. “Who is that?”

“The best of my people,” Jaal says. A bitter smile makes its way across his face and he gazes off in the distance. “Moshae Sjefa is one of the main reasons why we are still alive. She is one of the greatest minds the angara have to offer. You saw some of Aya while we were walking here. Without her inventions and ideas, this city would not exist. She was also part of the Resistance and analyzed the kett.” He gestures over to the right and continues, “There was a raid on Voeld once. Voeld is a planet full of ice and snow with everything frozen over. She managed to come up with three likely routes the kett would take, and everything happened according to what she predicted.” 

“Wow,” Ryder breathes out.

“Wow is right,” Jaal chuckles. He taps his translator and says, “Even this translator was part of her legacy. I used her principles of invention, her teachings on technology, and one of her own designs as a base for this. The spiral connection between the circuit and the program? Her work, not mine.”

“Did she teach you?” Ryder asks.

Jaal nods, and now, Ryder sees the old grief that haunts him, bright and bold on his lavender face. “She was,” he confirms. “She is gone now, captured by the kett. We have tried to rescue her, but every operation has failed.”

“Oh, Jaal,” Ryder breathes out. Instinctively, she takes a few more steps and closes the distance between them before she throws her arms around him in a tight embrace. It’s the same thing that he did for her, and so, she tries to rationalize it as an effort to relate with the angara. She knows the real reason why though, and she tries to tamp  _ that _ thought down. 

Jaal freezes under her touch for only a moment before he reciprocates in full fashion. He buries his face in the crook of her shoulder. “I miss her,” he says. His voice is muffled, but he continues, “We all do. Even Evfra misses her more than he admits, but now, he says that we have invested too many of our resources in her. Every time we fail, the kett improve their barriers and their security systems.” His voice drops lower as he says, “Every time we fail, I fear that she is closer and closer to dying. I have lost too much to lose her — my teacher, my mentor, my guide — too.”

“We’ll save her,” Ryder blurts out. The words spill out of her with startling alacrity, and she almost rues her own impulsivity. Still, she pulls away to gaze into Jaal’s eyes and repeats, “We’ll save her, I promise you. We’re not going to let the kett take another part of us away.”

Jaal’s pupils dilate, and the black nearly swallows up the starry, glistening blue of his irises. He shuts his eyes, and Ryder can glimpse a glimmer in the corners of his eyes before he embraces Ryder again. She thinks it might be a tear, but she doesn’t know. Jaal holds her close, and they stay like that for a moment: a wordless, soft moment. 

They pull away and stare at each other for a while before they burst into giggles. Both of them don’t know what to do with the awkward space between them. Ryder doesn’t know what to say or what would be culturally appropriate, and she supposes that the same would go for Jaal as well.

“I will let Evfra know of what we found,” Jaal finally says after he wipes his tears away. Whether they’re from laughter or that momentary grief, Ryder can’t tell. “And I will try to talk to him about the vaults and your usefulness and another potential rescue mission for the Moshae. I appreciate your sentiments, Ryder. I truly do.” He pauses before he adds, “You are proving to be more than I expected, day by day.”

“You too, big guy,” Ryder says. She gives him a playful punch on the shoulder. “Can’t believe we went from aliens ready to eviscerate me to sorta kinda friends. Isn’t that right, Poncho?”

“What does ‘eviscerate’ mean?” Jaal asks.

Ryder smirks, “Oh, I’ll tell you later.” She moves over to hoist a couple of baskets in her arms and leaves the bio lab. She got what she wanted for the day, and she hopes she’ll be able to convince Evfra. But for now, she’s content with keeping her crew alive. Because in the end, her crew is her Tempest’s heart, and Ryder doesn’t think she could take it without them. Two months of confinement is enough to teach her that. She hopes that Evfra will have the decency to let her crew gather all together for a full meal. Ryder  stops on the bridge and swivels around to look at the communications deck and the research lab. 

The revolving blue overlay casts light on the smooth, polished metal of the Tempest, and she squints at the different holographic images that flicker in and out of the blue light. It’s too hard to tell from her vantage point, but she can see rows upon rows of notifications. No doubt from the Nexus. But more importantly, she can see a few images that Liam uploaded during their time on Eos. She knows that Liam has a couple more photos on display in the crew’s quarters and in the kitchen, but it’s comforting to know that some part of her crew remains here. There’s a part of their heart still in this ship. Ryder turns back around and leaves the Tempest with that sight still in mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> translations:  
>  **paavoa** — "welcome", a common angaran greeting  
>  **paasa nai savaas** — “i know you don’t trust me.” derived from “pas” (discovery) and “savaas” (made-up word for “to trust,” derived from “vaasa-nari” and meaning a shared soul, assuming that you must trust someone in order to share something)  
>  **esana** — “sorry” (completely made-up)
> 
> hooo boy it's been longer than i originally expected since my last update, but writer's block is such a terrible beast to deal with. hope you enjoyed the new chapter, and i'll try my best to get to work on the next one :)


	8. guilt in some of its forms

Jaal helps Ryder carry all of the produce back to their compound, and then, he retreats to a corner to start typing up his report. He sits in a peculiar position on the ground — legs twisted and folded in a distinctly alien fashion that Ryder couldn’t hope to replicate — and bites his lip as he concentrates on typing. Ryder starts cleaning and sorting out the produce based on the different rations they set aside on the Tempest. SAM helps her calculate the right proportions of nutrient paste to produce. 

She’s almost done when Jaal clears his throat. It’s a shorter, sharper sound than what she’s used to, and there’s a sibilant hiss after the first initial burst of sound. If Ryder didn’t know any better, she would have jolted at the sound. She glances over her shoulder to see Jaal, now standing with his own data-pad. “I have contacted Evfra and added my notes,” he says. “I have also requested and gained clearance for your entire crew to gather here.”

Ryder’s eyes widen, and SAM immediately says, “Pathfinder, your heart rate is accelerating.”

“Oh my god,” she breathes out. “Jaal, you didn’t.”

Jaal wrinkles the flat bridge of his nose and asks, “What? Did you not want me to? I thought that this would be something that you would wa— “

He doesn’t get to finish the sentence before Ryder tackles him in a hug. She crosses the room with a brief flare of her biotics and slams into his arms with more force than she initially calculated. Jaal stumbles back, trying to halt her momentum, but he laughs, “I see, I see.” He pulls away from Ryder and solemnly adds, “But there will be an increased number of guards to watch over them, especially for the large, pointy one.”

“Vetra?” Ryder asks, confusion knitting her brow.

Jaal shakes his head. “No, the bigger one.”

Understanding lights up in Ryder’s eyes, and she nods sagely. “Ah, Drack then,” she murmurs.

The last time she heard about Drack, he was being sedated. The old anger stirs up at the bottom of her heart, and she can feel the bitter fury of it rising up the back of her throat like bile. When Jaal told her, she almost tore out of her room with her biotics blazing, but she stopped for the sake of preserving the barely-balanced peace they had. Well, she doesn’t know if she can call it peace if she and her crew are still being treated like prisoners, but the situation was a fragile equilibrium she wasn’t ready to burn. 

She pulls herself away entirely from Jaal and hurries back across the room to set out the baskets more evenly. She doesn’t have any plates, but she tries her best to spread out the baskets and containers of nutrient paste. 

The guards arrive first. Two stand by the door, one stands by the table, and from what Ryder can tell, there are far, far more down the halls. Every single one has a gun holstered on their belt, and some have larger ones slung across their backs. If Ryder makes one wrong move, she could have, at the bare minimum, three bullets straight through her heart. She doesn’t include Jaal in the number out of sheer sentimentality, but she wonders if Jaal would be willing to kill her. If it meant saving his people, she figures that he likely would. Ryder also has to wonder if she could do the same if their situations were reversed. Her gut churns when she thinks about it, and she immediately shoves the thought aside.

Less thoughts about murder, more thoughts about happier things. Like puppies, space hamsters, seeing all of her crew again. Yeah, yeah, that was a lot better.

She settles for sitting on the squashy chair as she waits, but she’s too impatient to sit quietly. She starts pacing up and down the small room while she waits, and Jaal snorts out a short, amused puff of laughter. “They will come soon,” he chides. “Walking around will not increase their own walking speed.”

“I know, I know,” Ryder says absently. She fiddles with the hem of her shirt as she paces even faster. But then, the door clicks open, and she sees her crew standing there, ringed by angaran guards. 

“Hey there,” Vetra says with a soft churr. Her mandibles click together as she flashes Ryder a grin. Liam offers her a little wave behind Vetra, and Cora’s at the front with her arms folded across her chest. They all look vaguely sweaty, and when Ryder examines them, she notes the dust and dirt stained across the bottoms of their pants. However, all of their eyes widen when they look past Ryder and see the plates and baskets of food lined up on the table.

The guards shuffle them all in, and Peebee whistles long and low. “Damn, Ryder, where did you get all of this?” she asks. “And wow, we really haven’t seen you at all recently. Is this what you were doing instead of lifting boxes?”

Ryder shrugs, “I’ve been poked with some needles, tried to learn Shelesh, and talked back at Evfra in the past couple of weeks.” A pang of guilt echoes in the back of her mind when she says it though. Quite frankly, she’s gotten the lightest load out of all of them. Evfra refused to harbor prisoners without having any use or purpose for them other than for scientific study, so he made all of them do manual labor except for Ryder. She supposes that language acquisition was important enough for Evfra to let her off the hook, but the thought of everyone else spilling their blood, sweat, and tears in comparison to her own work is… Ryder bites her lip and tries to focus on the task at hand.

Liam flashed her a smile and chases Ryder’s guilt away by asking, “Well, how good are you at speaking Shelesh now?”

“Pretty good, I’d say,” Ryder laughs. She gestures to the food and says, “Come on, eat up. I managed to get permission to get back on the Tempest, and I harvested some of Cora’s plants for food.”

“Cora, you’re a lifesaver,” Liam sighs before he sits down on the nearest squashy chair. He has to squish the chair to fit his non-digitigrade legs, but it only takes a couple of punches to get it to the right shape.

Cora shrugs and tries to hide her bright smile when she says, “It was no big deal, just a hobby for downtime. I didn’t expect them to survive the two months though.”

Kallo clears his throat as he settles down too. “Automated procedures. The Tempest’s got systems for automated procedures that continue to run in the background even when the crew is absent.”

Gil fidgets and twiddles his thumbs. “Yeah, I made some, uh, modifications to that,” he mentions.

“You  _ what?” _ Kallo says. His voice rises sharply on his second word, and Gil winces.

“Yeah, modifications,” Gil tries. “I altered some of the circuitry involved in the automated procedure process so that it wouldn’t exhaust as much energy off the main drive core. Relegated some to tertiary cores, adjusted processing, minor stuff, really.” He ticks off his finger with each thing he mentions but pauses to glare at Kallo. “Hey, don’t look at me like that. It helped, didn’t it?” 

Vetra claps Gil on the back and says, “Alright, you two, less fighting and more eating. Unless you want to go back and lift more boxes?”

Drack shuffles in front and sits down on the largest chair. The chair itself squeaks with the sheer force of the impact, but Drack ignores it to say, “Fighting. What I wouldn’t give for some fighting right now.”

Ryder squints at Drack and notes that his eyes are mildly glassy. The sheen over them alarms Ryder, but Lexi beats her to it by clicking her tongue disapprovingly and moving over to rap her knuckles against Drack’s armored hump. “Be careful,” she chides. “The new tranquilizers they’re trying to use on you haven’t completely passed through your system yet. It’s a miracle that your kidneys and your neuroconducive fluids are still high-functioning considering all the different factors involved in the scenario.”

“Yeah, doc, I’ll keep it down low,” Drack grumbles. He raises his gaze to meet Ryder’s and rumbles, “Hey, Ryder, you said you got back on the Tempest? Does that mean we can leave now? Less lifting boxes, more killing kett is what I’d like to hear.”

“Yeah, Aya’s cool and all, but all that Remnant tech, Ryder!” Peebee pipes up. She vaults over the back of a chair and plops down onto the seat. “Remember that vault on Eos? We could study so much more on other planets! The scientists here barely let me touch their tech, and it’s not nearly as interesting or as complicated as Rem-tech.”

Suvi picks up a bowl and inspects the carrots in it before she shrugs and takes a bite. “I’m sure Ryder’s doing her best,” she offers after she swallows. “She always does.”

“Thanks, Suvi,” Ryder says. To her relief, everyone else takes Suvi’s word for it and settles down to eat. Ryder sits down too and starts eating. It feels so strange to eat with a group now. The different side-conversations and the sounds of utensils clicking against the plates creates an ambience that Ryder didn’t realize she missed so dearly. She missed her crew. She missed them all so so much, and Ryder supposes that this entire experience has taught her more than just a new alien language. It’s taught her the value of her friends, the precious gift of their company, and Ryder wonders how she coped without them before. Her gaze flickers over to Jaal who shifts and stands behind the larger group. He’s midway through a conversation with another angaran guard, but when he notices her gaze, he gives her a small wave and a thumbs-up. Ryder flashes him a bright grin.  _ Ah, that’s how I made it through, _ she thinks to herself. 

Ryder pokes at her salad, deep in her own thoughts, but a voice startles her. “Hey, Ryder,” Vetra’s low voice says.

Ryder glances up and sees Vetra with only the spiny stems left on her plate. She’s never been too great at reading turian faces — their plates revealed little, and she couldn’t hear their sub-vocals — and she assumes that something’s wrong. “Oh, did I prepare the fruit wrong? Damn, sorry about that. I should’ve double-checked the turian plants more carefully,” she says.

Vetra laughs a low, soft churr, and her mandibles click with her grin. “No, the  _ spinadul  _ are fine. I just wanted to ask you something,” she says.

Ryder blinks and asks, “What?”

Vetra’s mandibles clamp in tight and close as she asks, “How much progress have you really made?”

“What do you mean?” Ryder asks. She knows what Vetra’s referring to, but she really doesn’t want to talk about it now. She’d much rather eat her food, celebrate one small victory, and live on for another day without having to think about her current set of problems. 

Cora sets down her plate. “Vetra’s right,” she says as the plate clinks against the table. “When are we going to do what we were supposed to be doing all along?”

Ryder sighs, “Cora, I —”

“Sara, we were supposed to be establishing a new outpost, finding more vaults, exploring new worlds, and finding resources to sustain our people,” Cora says, not even waiting for Ryder to finish. “We’ve done nothing except sit around and do whatever the angara tell us to do which isn’t much since we can’t understand them.” Everyone falls silent, even the angara, as Cora finishes, “You’re the Pathfinder, but we haven’t been finding any paths at all.”

Ryder’s almost at a loss for words as she gapes at Cora. She shakes her head and says, “Cora, I know it’s not ideal but —”

“It’s not ideal at all,” Cora sighs. She runs a hand through her hair, and she apologetically says, “I’m sorry for lashing out like that. It’s just… I feel like Alec could’ve done more with what we have and what we know. It feels so frustrating to not make any progress at all and to think about the alternatives, what we could’ve had.”

Ryder takes in a short, sharp breath of air, and suddenly, none of Cora’s words sticks quite as badly as this one.  _ I feel like Alec could’ve done more _ , Ryder repeats in her head.  _ Well, damn, I think about that every day. _ But it stings. It still hurts and aches, and those words hit Ryder exactly in her weakest, softest spot.

Cora’s eyes widen when she sees Ryder’s expression, and Peebee nudges Cora. Cora opens her mouth to say something, but before she can say anything, Ryder hears Jaal’s voice behind her ask, “Who is Alec?”

“My father,” Ryder softly answers. “The one who died. The one who was supposed to be Pathfinder instead of me.”

Jaal falls silent, and now, no one in the room speaks. “I am sorry, Ryder,” he finally says.

Ryder stands up and brushes off some of the crumbs from her pants. “No need to be,” she says in the most matter-of-fact tone she can possibly summon up. “Cora’s right. It’s a thought I have nearly every night.”

“Wait, Ryder, are you… Are you actually communicating with him?” Cora asks.

“Yep, I sure am,” Ryder sighs. She jerks a thumb over to Jaal as she says, “He and I have been working on a translator program and device for the past couple of weeks. We were planning to tell you all when you finished eating, but yeah, there’s that.” Her voice falls flat, and she can’t keep the note of exhaustion from bleeding into her voice. “After we start better and open communication with the angara, we can establish a better relationship and get back to the whole path-finding business. That’s that, I guess.” She glances over at Jaal and asks, “Jaal, you know how to work an omnitool by now, right? Can you stay here and install it for everyone? I think I’m going back to my room now. I’m tired.”

Jaal reaches out to catch her arm, but Ryder tugs her hand away. “Ryder, wait —” Jaal tries.

Ryder shakes her head and turns to a different angaran guard.  _ “Ma ishaas?” _ she asks. The guard nods and turns to open the door.

“Ryder!” Cora calls out. Ryder glances back at her and sees Cora with her arm outstretched towards her. Ryder musters up a small smile for her before she turns on her heel and leaves the room.

“What was she saying?” Peebee wonders.

“She was asking to leave,” Jaal answers. At first, he replies in Shelesh, but he transitions into long, stretched-out English to repeat the phrase when he sees the blank looks on everyone else’s faces. He gestures over to where Ryder was sitting and says, “Come, I will install the program for you now. Like Ryder wanted.”

The crew of the Tempest turns to face Jaal. Vetra and Liam squint at Jaal while Lexi observes him carefully. Cora is the only one to have her back to him, her gaze still directed at the door, but she slowly turns around. Jaal tilts his head to the side — to an unnatural degree that makes Cora uncomfortable — and says, “Are you alright?” 

Cora stares at him, eyes wide and open, before she sighs and shakes her head. “Yeah,” she mumbles before she moves to sit back down.

“Humans,” Jaal snorts. “Always saying they are alright when they are not. Silly thing to do, really.” He raises his right arm, mimicking the way Ryder uses her omnitool. “So, who wants to go first?”

Liam shrugs and says, “You know, you don’t have to raise it that high to activate an omnitool. I think Ryder’s the only one to use her omnitool so far up like that.” He flashes Jaal a thumbs-up. “I’ll be the first though. Hit me up with that translator.”

“Hit… Me up?” Jaal echoes. He shrugs and moves over to start the installation process. He goes methodically through the set-up process, navigating the code with more ease than everyone else expected from an alien. 

Liam stares at him before he squints and asks, “Did Ryder teach you how to do this?” 

Jaal pauses only to say, “Only half.” He resumes his work on Lexi’s omnitool with his fingers flying. He taps through the code almost like a turian or a salarian with his fused fingers, but he uses the program in a distinctly human fashion. 

Liam whistles long and low before he says, “That’s impressive, man. Also, I didn’t know Ryder could program.”

Cora fiddles with the hem of her shirt and keeps her gaze down low while she murmurs softly, “Alec and Ellen taught them both how to code. At least, that’s when he said when I asked him about his family.”

Time passes in that manner for most of the afternoon, and soon, the sun drops low underneath Aya’s horizon. The natural light fades from the corners of Ryder’s room and dusts them over with soft shadow. Ryder remains still and silent on her bed though. She doesn’t even bother to snap on the light, preferring to stay in the comforting darkness. In her mind, memories play over and over — of the past, of the present — and the familiar sense of guilt rises up like bile, almost choking her. She  _ knows _ that she shouldn’t be the Pathfinder, that this was something that no one ever intended. 

She’s all ready to dive down deeply into her miniature funk, but SAM quietly says, “Pathfinder, your serotonin levels are decreasing, and the activity level of your amygdala is increasing.” 

“What is that supposed to mean?” Ryder finally says as she rubs her hand roughly against her eyes. “Is that supposed to mean that I’m sad? Because I already knew that, SAM, thanks, I’m good. I’m  _ super _ good.”

“Chemical signals indicate otherwise,” SAM says. 

Ryder squints her eyes as she stares up at the ceiling and rolls on her side. “Man, I can’t hide anything from you, huh?” she mumbles. “Yeah, fine, I’m sad. I’m really sad. I feel like I’ve only been sad for the last couple of weeks.”

“It could be a side-effect of imprisonment,” SAM offers. He pauses before he adds, “Some of the psychological impacts of incarceration include diminished sense of self-worth, hypervigilance, interpersonal distrust, social withdrawal and isolation, emotional over-control, alienation, and psychological distancing. Would you like me to continue, Pathfinder?”

Ryder idly ticks the signs off her fingers as she says, “Well, I think I’ve got the diminished sense of self-worth thing down pat. Would you call me hypervigilant? I’ve definitely been isolated but not necessarily by choice, but you know what?

She’s cut off before she can finish her sentence by a soft rap on the door. Ryder hauls herself up and hears Jaal’s muffled voice ask, “Are you alright? May I come in?”

In her ear, SAM sighs, “Pathfinder, I am always here.” 

“Here for what?” Ryder whispers. “Also, I know that you’re always there. You’re embedded in my brain, SAM.”

She thinks that would’ve gotten a laugh out of SAM at the very least. Instead, SAM says, “To discuss, to converse, to talk, Pathfinder. I am always here.”

Ryder smiles to herself and hopes that the meaning gets across to SAM. She huffs out a long, heaving breath before she shuffles over to the door and opens it. Jaal is already pacing in front of the door and pauses mid-step when he hears the door open. “Hey there, Poncho,” she tries. “What are you doing here? Did you install the translator for everyone?”

Jaal blinks at her and the folds of his face flare out as he says, “Yes. Evfra has also begun disseminating the program out to the Resistance. According to him, this will help immensely on another world where we have established human contact.”

“What world?” Ryder asks.

Jaal grimaces as he says, “A hellish place called Kadara. I do not like it at all. Too many deserts and acid pools and dust for my liking. But still, there are humans there on one of our ports, and hopefully, this will help Evfra and the Resistance gain a better understanding with them.”

“That’s good,” Ryder says with a nod.

Jaal squints at her before he sighs, “That is not the reason why I came to talk though. You do not sound very well.”

“I’m fine,” Ryder grumbles. “What is it with people questioning me on whether or not I’m fine?”

Now, Jaal frowns, and he shoos her back into her room as he says sharply, “You say that, but your face does not say so. Why do humans insist on covering up their emotions like so? It seems to me like a waste of time. Come, out with it. What is bothering you? What is on your mind?” He holds his hand out, waiting for Ryder’s response, and says, “Tell me, Ryder. I wish to know.”

“Really?”

Jaal laughs: one that rumbles deep and low in his chest. “Genuinely so.”

Ryder laughs — short and breathy — and she moves over to shut the door. When she glances back, Jaal still has his hand out, so she takes his giant hand and holds it. “Man, angara must be a lot more open than us, huh?” she muses. “Well, me specifically. Some humans are completely fine with being emotional and open. For me? I’m just your classic emotionally constipated human. Must be a family trait, huh?”

Jaal moves them over so that they sit on the squashy bed. “Is the rest of your family like this?” he wonders.

“Emotionally constipated?” Ryder snorts. That phrase gets another laugh out of Jaal, and this time, Ryder can feel the vibrations from Jaal’s hand as well as the delicate thrum of bioelectricity from his skin. She also hopes that the phrase translated over correctly. But still, she continues, “For dad, definitely. So,  _ so  _ much more than little old me. And I take after my dad in that regard. My mom and my brother are better in the emotion department. They cool off a lot faster than me and my dad when they get mad, and they’re a lot more willing to talk about emotions and problems. Probably one of the reasons why Scott coped better with mom’s death than me and Dad.”

Jaal freezes, and his grasp on Ryder’s hand suddenly grows tighter. “Your mother is also dead?!” he exclaims with absolute horror crossing his face.

“Oh, I didn’t tell you that?” Ryder asks. She clicks her tongue disapprovingly. “Don’t give me that look, Jaal. She’s been dead for a while, dead before we started the journey to Andromeda. Remember when I told you about eezo? My mother was one of the primary scientists studying eezo. Her work exposed her to the element and caused her to develop disease from it.” Ryder pauses when she notices the way Jaal’s expression draws back, almost as if he were queasy. “Wait, why are you wincing?”

“We… Do not enjoy talking about illness and disease,” Jaal admits.

“Wait, you’re telling me that the angara are super emotional and open except for talking about sick people?” Ryder challenges.

“I never said that we don’t talk about it at all,” Jaal retorts. “We simply don’t enjoy it.”

A devilish smile crosses over Ryder’s face as she leans in and croons, “What, so are you uncomfortable with me sneezing or coughing or —”

“Please stop there,” Jaal sighs. “And besides, you are avoiding the subject.”

“Yeah, fine. I’ll try to remember to not sneeze around you then,” Ryder says with a shrug. “What? Don’t give me that look, Poncho. I’m just saying that I won’t sneeze and spray my alien germs all over you.”

Jaal gives her a withering glare and says, “You are making this worse and worse with every word.”

Ryder gives Jaal’s hand a squeeze, and her biotics flare out around her hand to ricochet softly off of Jaal’s electric field. She snickers, “Okay, okay. Anyways, back to mom.” Her expression now sobers. “She died from it eventually. Ironic, isn’t it? To have your life passion kill you in the end? Her exposure and her research gave me and Scott biotics, and it gave her a slow death.” She stretches her other hand up and lets the familiar power run through her veins again. Purple and blue shifts and dances across her skin, and Ryder sighs, “She wouldn’t have changed her mind for the world though. In that way, she was stubborn like me and Dad and Scott. She loved her work and would’ve given everything in the world to continue her research.”

“I see,” Jaal says. He searches Ryder’s face, but she can’t tell what he’s looking for. He idly reaches out with his other hand to prod Ryder’s hand, still aflame with biotics. They flare out from blue to black — sadness, if Ryder recalls correctly — and then, he adjusts his electricity to match hers. The same ebb and flow. “You were not happy back then, when your friend mentioned your father,” Jaal says. “Coh-rah? Co-rah? Cora. Yes, that is it. Cora.”

“No, I wasn’t,” Ryder says. The tell-tale lie is still ready on her lips —  _ no, I was fine, no, she didn’t bother me at all, no, I don’t feel guilty at all about my father’s death  _ — but she forces it back. Honesty. If that’s what Jaal wants, that’s what Jaal will get. “Cora was right though. My father always got the job done. Never hesitated to make the right decision. And what do I do? Bungle first contact with two species and almost burn my ass off in the dusts of a new planet. Delay plans and procedures for two months.” She shrugs. “Cora’s right to get frustrated. I would too. We’re all prisoners here when we came out here to make a difference for our people. But I guess that’s an issue I’ll have to take up with Evfra when he’s willing to see me again. And is Evfra ever willing to see me? Don’t answer that question because I don’t want to know.”

Jaal peers into Ryder’s eyes and softly says, “I am sorry. But we are all afraid. We know what happened the last time we welcomed aliens with open arms. Even now, I sometimes catch myself thinking less than favorable things about the newcomers to our galaxy. But look at us. We are teaching each other the language. We are trying to build bridges and bonds, and I think it is working. Even Evfra sees the benefits of a collaboration, but remember that we have been fighting the kett for years. When we see aliens, we think about the family members and the friends we have lost first instead of what could be. It is a habit born out of years of war and resistance.”

“No, I’m not trying to blame you, Jaal,” Ryder hurries to say. “We couldn’t possibly imagine what you all have gone through with the kett. It’s just… We’re trying to resolve expectations of our own. Most of all, me.” 

She runs a hand through her hair, disrupting the soft flow of electricity as she does so. She yelps as the static electricity zaps her scalp and makes some of her hair stand on end. She tries to flatten it down as Jaal holds back a laugh. She sticks her tongue out at Jaal before she sends a wave of biotics down her other hand where she’s still holding Jaal’s hand. Purple and blue light suffuse him too, and he’s taken aback by the sheer force of energy that batters at his shield. Ryder winces and tries to pull back the biotics, but Jaal responds back with a wave of his own. Light interplays between the two, illuminating the shadows in the corners with brilliant light. Ryder thinks that the space between the two of them looks like an aurora, trapped by their own hands. She looks up to see Jaal’s glittering eyes, and she laughs, bold and wild, as she tosses back a brilliant ball of biotic energy. For a moment, the world between them is full of color. Ryder silently views it as something hopeful, something better, something  _ new _ in their world. 

The moments pass, and Jaal finally leaves. Ryder’s left with an angaran data-pad that she tries to parse with SAM. It’s about Kadara and the aliens found there. Ryder’s not entirely sure if she’s supposed to know this, but she rationalizes the action by saying that  _ she’s _ the human Pathfinder and that  _ she’s _ supposed to know everything that happens to her people. The hours pass quickly in that manner, and the morning soon comes.

There’s another knock at Ryder’s door, and she only gets one second to sleepily shove the data-pad under her pillow before a different angara comes in. She almost says hello to Jaal while she rubs the sleep from her eyes, but almost instantly, she can tell that the blue in her peripheral vision isn’t the familiar purple of Jaal’s. 

It’s a different angara that’s usually stationed down the hall, and this angara holds her hand up awkwardly. “Was that the right gesture?” she ventures. Ryder nods, and the angara sighs. The folds of her face and the lines of her cowl visibly relax, and she hands Ryder another slim data-pad. “A message from the Resistance,” she says before she leaves and shuts the door behind her.

Ryder furrows her brow as she tries to read the curling angaran script. Finally, she sits back down on her bed, cross-legged, as she scans it over with her omnitool. She’s glad that she’s sitting back down because she drops the data-pad out of sheer shock.

She — Sara Ryder, the human Pathfinder — has clearance to leave Aya.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> translations:  
>  **ma ishaas?** — “can i leave?” (derived from “isharay” meaning “goodbye”)
> 
> oof yeah i know it's been a while since i last updated, but writer's block is a nasty beast :( at least this chapter is longer than usual haha  
> also, i love cora, and it truly hurt my heart to make her guilt-trip ryder like that, but i think?? she's the character who would be most likely to do that??? idk


	9. inexplicable goodwill

“Oh yeah, baby, let’s get you going,” Ryder whispers lovingly when she strokes a hand down her armor and equipment. She glances up at Jaal who’s trying to choke back a laugh and snaps, “Hey, don’t laugh, Poncho. I haven’t had my armor on in months. Sometimes, you just miss your explosives and… Oh my god, my jump jets. My precious jump jets. My adorable, wonderful jump jets. I missed you babies so much.”

“You sound like you are trying to couple with your armor,” Jaal says in between laughs. 

Ryder ignores him in favor of slipping her armor and latching all the plates down. But when she gets her jump jets on, she sticks her tongue out at him and says, “Alright, big guy, let’s just wait and see.”

She turns and shuts her eyes. It’s hard to acclimate herself to the weight of her armor. She knows it’s not as heavy as it would normally be since the angara didn’t give her guns back yet. Still, it’s different after two months of captivity. Jaal is the only one to be personally out in this miniature training ring they have set up for her. There are a couple of scientists off to the side, carefully keeping track of her energy levels and her physiology. Ryder cracks open one eye and asks, “Wasn’t Evfra supposed to be the one to monitor me?”

“Mmm, he was busy,” Jaal says in a rather noncommittal tone. “Why? Do you have an issue with me being your supervisor?” His tone drops lower as he speaks until his vocal register is barely above a rumble, and his lids flutter as he speaks. 

Ryder eyes him suspiciously. “Okaaaaaaay,” she says, drawing out the word as long as she possibly can. “Cool. Great. So, that means Evfra skipped out to do something else ‘more important’ with this time.” She even uses air quotes for emphasis. “It’s fine, Jaal. Everyone knows that the great and marvelous Evfra has better things to do with his time than to waste it on an alien like me.”

Jaal gapes at her until he finally slaps Ryder on the back and laughs, “You never cease to surprise me with the endless amount of words you manage to speak.”

Ryder gives him a dirty look as she mutters, “Is that an insult or a compliment? I genuinely can’t tell anymore with you.” She exhales as she stretches for one last time. The familiar lines and weight of her armor are strangely comforting and isolating at the same time, and she wants to let her biotics flicker over her. However, in the eyes of the angaran scientists, she’s not sure yet. They only think that biotics are nothing more than a simple bioelectric field like the angara. She’d rather have them find out the true nature of biotics once she and her crew are all safely off planetside.

“Alright, Jaal,” she finally says. A smirk widens her smile as she takes one step back. “Get ready to have your mind blown.” 

Then, with a leap, Sara Ryder soars into the air. 

She doesn’t take off in a flare of biotics like she normally does, but she can’t help but let a small trickle of energy boost the jump jets. She rockets off into the air, and the sheer velocity of her launch rushes past her face. The exhilaration of flight makes her whoop wildly with joy. Then, when she starts plummeting towards the ground again, her jump jets fire up slightly, and energy races along Ryder’s veins to soften her landing. She lands in a crouch, arms up and ready to balance her equilibrium back on ground.

“Ryder!” she hears Jaal cry out. 

She pays him no attention as she readies herself for an even greater jump. With reckless abandon, she surges up into the air once more and allows herself to free-float in the air for a moment longer. SAM quickly recalibrates her jump jets based on Aya’s gravity, and that makes Ryder confident enough to do a flip mid-air on her next jump. She bounces down on the ground with a whoop and skids to a halt beside Jaal. 

She flashes finger guns at Jaal and smugly says, “How about that?” He stares at her, eyes wide, and she can feel the familiar snap of curious electricity at the edges of her body. Ryder winks at him and pats him on the back. “Don’t worry, I can do cooler things than that,” she assures him. “I’ve charged into rampaging eiroch and slammed a kett off a cliff too. I’m only getting started with the big jumps, big guy.”

“No way,” Jaal scoffs.

Ryder flicks him on the shoulder. “Yes way.”

She shows off a couple more jumps for Jaal and then allows the scientists to attach different electrodes to the outer hull of her armor. They gear up some sort of wireless meter to observe the physics of her jump-jet assisted acrobatics and let her bounce around some more. All of that gets filed into data that Ryder assumes Evfra will review later.

She doesn’t want to take off her armor when the session is over, but eventually, she peels off each and every piece and lovingly sets them away back on the Tempest. The ship still feels barren without her crew, but that’s a matter she intends to solve next. She checks her omnitool for the time and finds that she still has one more hour before her scheduled appointment with Evfra.  

Jaal is still outside the door of her personal quarters, and Ryder unlocks the door to let him in. The door clicks upward to reveal Jaal, fiddling around with some spare parts. He glances up when he sees her and smiles. “All done?” he asks. 

Ryder nods and gestures towards her room. “Time to finish up your tour,” she says.

Jaal hesitantly steps in and asks, “Is this part of a human custom that I am not aware of?”

Ryder furrows her brow with confusion. “What do you mean?” she asks. “I’m showing you my room because it was the one place we didn’t see the last time we were here. I guess I was just too scatter-brained to remember.”

“Scatter-brained? I am unfamiliar with the term,” Jaal echoes. “But I see. I thought that there was some human custom against showing people their rooms since you skipped over yours the last time we were here..”

“Scatter-brained has a similar meaning to forgetful,” Ryder clarifies. “As for the second part of that, I think some humans treat their rooms as more special than others. For me, I don’t really mind. The crew uses my room as a storage space because —” She pauses and points to a pile of crates in the corner. “The room is ridiculously big for one person. Who did the Initiative expect me to be? A krogan? A turian? I’m not nearly as tall or big at all. I could fit comfortably in a bunk within the crew’s quarters, but I guess I’m stuck with this. But anyhow, the crew uses my quarters to house more delicate or valuable equipment or samples. It’s easier to lock it down in here and keep an eye on it rather than throwing it in with the rest of the cargo where it might get jostled around.”

“That is a fair point,” Jaal concedes. He circles around the room once more before he laughs, “My room was not nearly as big. Rooms this big are usually communal, meant for the entire family. Do you not get lonely in here? Being all alone seems like a great burden to bear.” 

“Well, you get used to it,” Ryder shrugs. “You move on. You focus on other things. You work. That’s life, I guess. Besides, I never grew up with a large family like yours in the first place. Just me and Scott, Mom after work, and Dad… Almost never. Mom did her best to spend time with us, but Dad barely tried.” Without even thinking, she moves over to tap on SAM’s port and asks, “Hey, SAM, can you bring up some of my photos? The older ones that I saved on Ark Hyperion.”

“Of course, Pathfinder,” SAM says out loud. The easy, modulated tones drift out from the speakers around the port instead of in Ryder’s ear. She doesn’t even notice until she sees surprise flicker across Jaal’s face when he sees SAM flicker up. Frankly, Ryder thinks that the little port is unnecessary considering SAM’s true nature, but now, she’s incredibly grateful for that placebo. If not for that, she’s not quite sure how she could explain SAM to Jaal.  _ Dad really did think of everything,  _ she thinks to herself.

“What is that?” Jaal asks. He edges over to the port and inspects the white light. The small projection of SAM rotates slowly, and Ryder can see the way Jaal’s eyes carefully track each and every movement of the gently unfurling light. 

“Hello,” SAM says. “I am SAM, short for Simulated Adaptive Matrix.” He doesn’t say more.

Ryder folds her arms and regards him for a moment. Jaal’s curious — always has been — and if his work on the translator is any evidence, Ryder doubts she can hide SAM’s true nature from him for long. Still, she debates on exactly how much she should tell him. “My dad built him,” she settles on saying. “SAM’s installed in nodes across the arks in the Initiative. This is the Hyperion’s SAM, and other arks like the Leusinia, Paarchero, and Natanus have their own separate SAM.” 

“Your father built this?” Jaal marvels. “What are its capabilities? An adaptive matrix? Does it scan things? Does it monitor your ship?” 

“Sort of,” Ryder admits. She watches Jaal experimentally stick his finger through the light and study the way the projection revolves around it. SAM remains quiet again, so she finally says, “He helps the Pathfinder adapt to their environment.”

Jaal flares the sides of his face out with interest as he raps his knuckles against the bottom of SAM’s port. “Do you take this device out with you? Or is it loaded onto the omnitools?” he asks.

Ryder grimaces and taps the side of her head. “It’s all up in here,” she admits. “Implanted in my brain. My parents’ work, actually.”

Jaal’s expression morphs into one of such sheer horror that Ryder hurries to say, “I’m all good, I’m all good! Hey, don’t give me that look. Without my implants, I’d be dead.”

“Implants?” Jaal exclaims. “You have more than one?! And your parents were the one to place it in your brain?!” He seems torn between stepping back and stepping forward, and instead, he ends up pacing in place. Ryder sighs and grabs his hand to pull him towards her bed. In an effort to try and calm him down, she tries sending biotic signals to his electric field. That only alarms him even more, and he flushes a brighter color.

Oops. She must’ve sent the wrong signal. She really needs to get better at that and makes a mental note to ask SAM about the types of signals her own biotics send off.

“Just sit down and let me explain before you fall over or something,” she grouses. She gives Jaal a gentle push until he settles down. His digitigrade legs have to adjust to the smaller and lower edge of the bed, and he frowns as he tries to squash the bed like he normally does. “It’s not an angaran bed,” she adds. “It’s not going to squish like your beds. I can try and requisition something like memory foam if that’s what you want, but you’re just going to have to deal with it for now.” 

Jaal nods silently, and Ryder takes that as a cue to start. She allows her biotic energy to ripple up her arms and swathes the energy around them to gently lap over Jaal’s own field. “So, biotics. My brother and I ended up getting it from the eezo exposure my mom had.” Ryder stretches out her hand and flips it palm-side up. “We both have nodes full of eezo in our bodies now, and they send surges of biotic power through our nerves. They got stronger as we got older, so my mother built us implants to keep our brains and our nerves from frying themselves. From there, my mother built implants that enabled us to have better control over the electrical signals that passed through our nerves, and she became a hero for it.”

Ryder hesitates before she allows her biotics to bloom even more. They ripple a deep, dark purple with the strength of the dark energy she emits, but she takes care to keep it gentle. It’s almost like a stasis field just over the surface of their skin. Ryder continues, “My father used my motherMs design when he designed SAM. That way, we could have better control over our organ systems and give us better situational awareness in a new galaxy.” After a pause, she cheekily adds, “SAM also helps us with problem solving and can tell jokes. Not very good ones though.”

“What did the bartender ask when an asari walked into a bar?” SAM says. His tone is perfectly flat, and he doesn’t even pause when he finishes, “Why so blue?” 

Ryder bites back a laugh, but SAM doesn’t miss it at all. “Pathfinder, I have detected slight contractions of your diaphragm as well as an increase of activity within your limbic system and the dilation of your inner blood vessels and endothelium,” he says. “My calculations conclude that you are trying to hold back your laughter, Pathfinder. I am glad that my joke is functional, and therefore, good.”

Ryder looks up at Jaal now, trying to gauge his reaction. In turn, Jaal carefully extends his hand so that it hovers over Ryder’s hand and sends soft signals through the cloud of purple energy. They watch the colors shift with every pulse before Jaal says, “I am sorry for jumping to conclusions. At first, I thought… I thought that perhaps, this implant enabled you to spy on us. For whom, I do not know. The kett? Your own people? But that is an unlikely conclusion. Now, now, I thank you for sharing that information with me. I only have a few more questions.”

His eyes lid over, and he sighs, “To adapt on a level like this… The degree of responsiveness required for adaptation in a new galaxy, these purposes that you list off, the fact that it is installed on an implant and not as a program on an omnitool and even has additional ports and nodes…” He opens his eyes. “These all indicate the likelihood of thing being an artificial intelligence. Am I correct?” 

Ryder shifts her feet and casts her gaze off to the side, but Jaal takes that as being enough of an answer. He stands up, and as he stretches out his double-jointed legs, he rises up above Ryder’s own height to tower over her. “Then, do you have any barriers, any precautions? You do know the extent of what artificial intelligence can do?”

Ryder’s biotics flicker away and dissipate. The familiar ache along her limbs slowly spread out across her sensation. She struggles for an answer, for some way to explain the necessity of an A.I. despite the risks. How can she even justify this when someone like her father was unable to justify it to the Alliance? How can she rationalize this when she knows about the geth and other incidents of A.I. rebellions back in the Milky Way? 

But… She trusts SAM. She trusts SAM, and she has faith in their friendship. She thinks back to the first few nights when she first became the Pathfinder. Those lonely, miserable nights with too much responsibility on her shoulders were the worst, but at least SAM was there. Even though Ryder initially thought that he was just reading them from some internal manual on how to deal with humans, she now believes that SAM is kinder than when she first had him installed in her head. Times spent deciphering rem-tech, constant reminders and notes to keep her safe, loneliness in her quarters and her cell evaded only by SAM, and SAM’s invaluable help on the translator. Maybe SAM is just an A.I. but she thinks that he’s more than that. She reaches out a hand towards SAM’s port and says simply, “I trust SAM. I trust him because he is my friend.”

“Thank you, Pathfinder,” SAM says after a second too long. Ryder knows how fast he processes things though, and she wonders what must have happened to make him hesitate so. What kind of calculations were siphoning through his systems now? Probably something to do with the inexplicable and unpredictable nature of humans or something along those lines. She knows for a fact that SAM tried to predict human actions before he told her that it was easier to calculate solutions to the problems she found in the moment rather than attempting to predict the future.

Jaal doesn’t look quite convinced though, so SAM continues, “The Pathfinder and I operate on a two-way system. I receive a direct feed of the Pathfinder’s sensory input to enable a better understanding and adaptation to her surroundings. Everything that the Pathfinder sees and feels, I also see and feel. It is a symbiotic relationship, and it is mutually beneficial for both of us to survive. I will not harm Sara, and I look out for her best interest as well as the crew’s.”

Ryder sighs and pats Jaal’s hand with her other hand. A spark of static electricity runs across her skin, and she lets out a soft yelp. She pulls her hand back to rub it against her thigh and sheepishly says, “I know, I know, I panicked when I first found out too. But every other SAM on the other arks have the correct shackles. Everyone else on my Pathfinder team only has communication-level connections with SAM. You’re going to be safe, I promise. I’m the only one with this kind of a connection with SAM, thanks to my dad. He always did like tinkering with different parts and functions.” She gestures over to the port again. “This was his life’s work,” she finishes bitterly.

Jaal cocks his head to the side when Ryder’s voice snaps a little harsher on that last sentence, but thankfully, he makes no comment on it. Instead, he dips his head into a small bow before he says, “Then, it is good to meet you, SAM. I am Jaal Ama Darav.” 

“The pleasure is mine,” SAM responds.

Jaal pulls his hand back and lets his electricity soften before it stops. Likewise, Ryder lets her biotics recede until they settle down over her skin and fade out. Jaal pauses for a moment before he asks, “Then, is the translator SAM’s work as well?” 

“Partially,” Ryder admits. “He analyzed the grammatical structure of your language with his database of other alien languages from our galaxy. I still learned the different words and phrases, and I did a good amount of the coding. But without SAM, I doubt that we could have gotten this translator up and running so quickly. We did it in two months, yeah? Without SAM, that might have taken a year or more. I wanna be optimistic and say that we could’ve figured it out, but I was glad to have SAM there to help.”

Jaal’s glance strays over to SAM’s port before he chuckles softly, “I will have to thank SAM then for his invaluable efforts.” 

“You are welcome, Mr. Ama Darav,” SAM says. Jaal jolts a little at the mention of his name, but aside from that, Ryder’s glad that she doesn’t have an angaran meltdown on her hands. She knows how her old home treated A.I.s and her father for SAM’s design. 

However, Jaal does glance back at her and say, “You do know that I will have to report this to Evfra, correct?”

Ryder sinks down on her bed and sighs, “Yeah. Yeah, I know.”

Jaal moves closer to her and squats down so that his face is eye-level with her. “I will try to do my best to save you from Evfra’s wrath,” he promises. “But this is information that we must know about you and the Initiative. Chances are, they will not take kindly to this. We’ve had… Incidents with A.I.s before. If I recall correctly, there is one rogue A.I. on Voeld that keeps killing any member of the Resistance that comes too close.” 

In that moment, Ryder finds herself staring into Jaal’s eyes. There are so many flecks of prismatic white among the rich blue of his eyes to the point where she swears that there are  _ stars _ trapped in his eyes. She realizes that her silence has gone on too long when Jaal wrinkles his brow. For god’s sake, Jaal just told her that Evfra might shut down SAM.

“Just don’t break SAM, okay?” Ryder hurries to say. She laughs a little at the end of her words, but It ends up coming off as flat though. “I’m pretty sure that would break me too,” she finishes rather lamely. 

Jaal’s gaze strays over to the side of her face, right where she tapped her head. “Noted,” Jaal says. “But I will say this. The minute SAM tries to hurt you… I will do my best to shut it down to save you.”

“That will not happen, Jaal Ama Darav, but thank you for your concern,” SAM says. “I will ensure that the Pathfinder remains safe and healthy.”

“I would like that,” Jaal says. “Better to have her safe and healthy. Otherwise, she would complain for days and days.” A small smile tugs at the corner of his lips when he says that. Ryder groans in protest and smacks Jaal’s shoulder, but she knows that sliver of humor is a sign that Jaal’s willing to tolerate SAM. As for Evfra, she’s not sure, but she has faith in Jaal’s ability to convince Evfra.

After that, it’s just another routine rundown of the ship. Ryder scrubs out some of the filters in the labs and keeps an eye on Jaal as he marvels at the different tools and parts in the tech lab. She does have to yank him away from Peebee’s personal stash of rem-tech though. She’s already had her fair share of mishaps with Peebee’s rem-tech — some of them good, bad, and ugly — and she doesn’t want the same happening to Jaal. Also, Peebee’s wrath is something to be feared. But otherwise, the hour passes quickly, and they return to Resistance headquarters faster than Ryder would like.

Jaal leaves Ryder by the door with nothing more than a small smile and an awkward thumbs-up. He hasn’t quite learned how to make a thumbs-up without pulling in his fused fingers in enough, so it looks like a strange amalgamation of a wave. Ryder snorts when she sees it and tries to flap her hands in the way that she’s seen Jaal make the angaran equivalent before.

After that, she enters the hub of Resistance HQ and tries to avoid looking too closely at the screens mounted on the walls and the data flashing past on various tablets around the room. When she enters, the few angara working there glance up at her and twist their faces into some recognizable expression. Despite her time working with Jaal, she’s still not sure if she’s gauging their expressions correctly or if she’s just aligning human expressions and mannerisms to them without thinking. At the far end of the room, she sees Evfra with his back turned to her. A dangerous prospect if anything, but Ryder suspects that he could move immediately into action and shoot her dead if she tried anything wrong. She glances up at the corners of the room and supposes that the room is also under surveillance.

Evfra raises his hand without turning around, and the other angara file out of the room. They make sure to close down whatever they’re working on before they leave. Most of them close out on generic wallpapers that are a single, solid dark green background. However, one angara awkwardly stays longer when their wallpaper reveals a picture of two angara grinning and gesturing towards each other. Ryder suspects that it’s some kind of selfie. After they set their wallpaper back to the generic dark green, they hurry out, murmuring apologies under their breath.

Silence fills the room now aside from the soft whirring of the systems around them. Evfra still does not turn around and remains doing whatever he’s doing, but he says, “So. Pathfinder.”

His voice echoes around the room, and Ryder peers at him, debating on whether or not to advance closer. “So. Evfra,” she echoes. She takes a few steps closer and tries, “How’s the translator working?”

Evfra sighs, “Get to the point, Pathfinder. I don’t have much time.” 

He still doesn’t turn around, and that irritates Ryder. The blatant disregard rubs her the wrong way, and she says blithely, “Judging by your ability to understand me, I’m taking that as a yes. Glad to see that everything’s working out well on that end.” She watches Evfra’s shoulders stiffen slighly and smiles to herself. She has his attention now. “Now, for the main point,” she says without missing a beat. “You gave me clearance to leave Aya.”

Evfra glances back at her and replies flatly, “I did.”

Ryder strides across the room to close the gap between them and continues, “But you didn’t give my crew clearance. Instead, I hear that you’ve marked some of my crew as exceptionally dangerous and refused to give them clearance.”

The annoyance burning low in her mind now flares up and sparks up even more when she remembers the assessment. Drack and Peebee were considered to be liabilities based on their more rambunctious and aggressive personalities. Lexi was also included after several outbursts she made on behalf of Drack’s health and the tranquilizers used on him. Gil and Kallo were advised to be placed in separate containment cells because of their arguments, and one scientist added a note suggesting to file down Vetra’s plates and talons completely down to nubs “for protection.” That assessment made her furious then, and the simple thought of it now makes her angry now.

“Some of your crew members have not taken well to captivity,” Evfra says. “Efforts to monitor them safely and securely have been compromised by their defiance.”

Ryder shuts her eyes and breathes in deeply. Tries to tamp down the anger. Tries to reel her composure back in. She pictures Alec Ryder in her mind and tries to take on the same impassive countenance. She never viewed herself to be her father’s daughter — never as famous, never as intimidating, never as impassive — but she’s just as stubborn as him. She opens her eyes and grounds herself with that thought.

“Look, I know that some of my crew might have given you a tough time,” she offers. That is as much as she is willing to concede. “But those actions were from a place of frustration and anger, frustration from being unable to carry on with our mission.” She gestures out to the window and the view of Aya. “We have our entire people on our shoulders. We need to hunt down kett and gather resources for our people to survive. You out of all people should understand that. Tell me, Evfra. Would you also take to captivity well or would you try to escape?”

Evfra now turns fully and folds his arms. “Your people were taken under custody and examined because of the very nature of the alien species we have encountered in our galaxy thus far,” he says. His voice lilts down into a sharper tone as he continues, “Years of genocide, Pathfinder. Years of genocide do not lend themselves well to this pity you try to elicit from me. I want reasons, Pathfinder. Clear, succinct points as to why your crew deserves clearance from me.”

“If you’re going to be this suspicious, why did you even bother to give me clearance?” Ryder asks. Her voice becomes harder on the edges, and in turn, Evfra narrows his eyes at her.

“That is a question you should ask your guard,” he snaps. He reaches behind him for a data-pad and holds it up. “Jaal Ama Darav has made multiple appeals for your clearance and your freedom, Pathfinder, and I trust his judgement. The current case he makes for you is that you have the capacity to aid the Resistance on various planets to prove your capabilities and your usefulness to us. From there, we can move on to discussing the real reason as to why you came to Aya. Jaal spoke to me about the Moshae. That is something that we can discuss after you prove yourself.”

“Oh,” Ryder says blankly. “Oh.” 

She didn’t realize that Jaal did that much for her. The realization makes her stumble a bit, but she presses on. She’s the only one with official clearance, but she needs more. “Right, right. So, I’m getting clearance,” she says. “But in order to leave Aya and do these, uh, missions to prove ourselves, I need my ship. I need my Tempest in top shape, and my crew is the only group of people on this entire planet who knows how to maintain it. That’s something you can’t replicate with angaran replacements.” Her voice warms with strength as she continues, “Your engineers don’t know how to regulate the drive core, your scientists don’t know how to operate our equipment, and your doctors don’t know how to diagnose and treat our alien species. Those are skills that come with time neither of us can afford.”

“Hm. Continue,” Evfra says simply.

Ryder peers at him and asks, “No opinions? No thoughts on what I’ve just said? How rare.”

“I will give you my opinion once you have clearly and succinctly stated all of your points,” Evfra grumbles. “And Pathfinder, you are failing on the succinctness of your responses.”

“Mmm, fine, fine,” Ryder says as she waves off his words. She paces in front of Evfra and gestures with her hands, speaking in time with her motions. “You want to see proof of how well we could help you? Then you need to see every one of us in action. If you only send me, you only get data and feedback on a human female which isn’t as good or descriptive of everyone within the Initiative.” 

She wonders if she’s toeing the line, but she figures that’s what a Pathfinder is supposed to do. Breach the boundaries for the benefit of others. At least, that was how Alec treated the job. 

Ryder starts ticking off her crew one by one on her fingers as she says, “We have a turian, a krogan, a salarian, asari, and different humans in my crew, and our diversity enables us to achieve more. Data, Evfra, the data is all there to analyze.” She folds her hands and eyes Evfra carefully before she says, “I’ve also heard complaints about Nakmor Drack. You’ve been tranquilizing him and trying to put him to work? That plan won’t work for long since krogan biology has too many redundant organ systems and they adapt to different drugs terribly quick. And once that stops working…”

She trails off and considers Drack. He’s been around far longer than she has, and if his stories are any indication, he’s had more blood and experience on his hands than any person on the Tempest and possibly Aya as well. She arches an eyebrow and says, “Drack’s a krogan battlemaster with centuries of experience in the arts of galactic warfare and combat. He’s seen cities rise and fall as well as the rise of my own species to the galactic forefront back home. Now, imagine this: the full strength and fury of Nakmor Drack being pointed at the kett rather than to you and the angara and the Resistance. The same goes for the rest of my crew as well. They’re talented, and they’re trained. Imagine, Evfra. Or are your thoughts too mired in the Resistance to see beyond it?”

Evfra stiffens and advances on Ryder. “Are you threatening me, Pathfinder?” he says in a deep and rumbling tone. “You walk a dangerous line, Pathfinder, between insulting me and persuading me. Moreover, you’re veering off-course if you’re trying to persuade me to let your crew go. In fact, if this krogan of yours is so dangerous, you may be convincing me to put him down instead of letting him go.”

“No, I’m genuinely not,” Ryder counters. “I’m just asking you to consider the force and power that we could offer for you and the Resistance. Keeping them locked up here on Aya consumes your resources, taxes your forces, and prevents me from mobilizing them against the kett which is a threat for both of our organizations.” She extends her hand out to Evfra, palm up and elbow bent just enough to mimic an angaran gesture. “The answer to me, Evfra is simple and clear. Let us go. Let us establish diplomatic relations. Let us take on the kett together as allies and as friends.”

Evfra stares at her open palm before he reaches out his own. Ryder’s heart leaps up with blinding hope, but it crashes just as quickly when he pushes it aside. He steps closer to Ryder and glares at her with his luminous, glittering eyes. “Allies. Friends,” he bites out. “You throw these words around so casually without any regard to the implications that they hold for my people. Jaal has told you our history with the kett, yes? We welcomed them into the heart of our homes. We allowed them to stay within our orbits, gave them the same peace and comfort we would offer to our friends and family, and gave them shelter in hopes of reaching such ideals. Allies. Friends.” 

He abruptly turns from Ryder and snaps, “And look how we were repaid. They slaughtered us, lay siege to our cities, burned our homes, enslaved us, captured us for some unknown reason.” His voice burns with a fury that Ryder imagines has smoldered for years and years. He whirls on his heel and glares at Ryder. “We gave them friendship, and they paid us with genocide. What makes you so different? You say you came here to establish a home for your people. That is what the kett also said. You both come, equally armed and equally reasoned,” he snarls. “You have been on the precipice of execution, and the only factors keeping you from falling is the curiosity of my scientists, the relatively peaceful behavior and compliance from you and your crew thus far, and the  _ inexplicable  _ goodwill of Jaal Ama Darav.”

“Jaal?” Ryder echoes with wide eyes.

“Yes, Jaal Ama Darav,” Evfra replies testily. “He has paid blood and family and loss and grief to the kett just like the rest of us. By all regards, he out of all people should be far from trusting someone like  _ you. _ And yet, he is willing to vouch for you and  _ has _ vouched for you, many times over.” He shakes his head with distinct disapproval.

Ryder doesn’t understand. “Since when?” she asks. “I know we’re on friendlier terms now, but he wasn’t always nice. Just a regular guard assigned to me.”

“Perhaps you should ask him his own reasons, but since that first day you tried to decipher our language, you have sparked some sort of curiosity in both him and our scientists,” Evfra grumbles. “Curiosity. Pah. I swear that will be the death of us one day.”

Ryder shrugs, “You know, we have a human saying. Curiosity killed the cat.”

“A cat?” Evfra repeats. “What is a cat?”

Ryder presses her lips in a thin line as she tries to think of a way to explain it. “It’s a small, cute creature that humans keep for pets,” she finally says.

“Ah, so an adhi.”

A mental image of an adhi flickers in Ryder’s mind, and she immediately shakes her head. “God, no,” she says. “Adhi remind me more of dogs or varren. That’s not the point though. Sure, curiosity might get you in a bit of trouble here and there.” She laughs a little and taps her own chest. “But some people finish that saying by saying ‘curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back.’ It means that sometimes, the satisfaction and the reward from investigation or experimentation with the unknown is more than enough to repay the risk.”

“Are you comparing my people to this  _ pet?” _ Evfra asks.

Ryder tries to backtrack and hurries to say, “No, that’s not it at all! I’m trying to say, I mean, I don’t mean it that way! It’s just that, oh boy, were you not listeni— “

Evfra lifts his hand up to stop Ryder in her tracks, and to her surprise, he chuckles. “I can see why Jaal describes you the way he does in his reports,” he muses. The anger in his eyes dies down, and his expression returns to its normal equilibrium.

Ryder’s shoulders slump and she groans, “Great. Wait, Jaal talks about me in his reports?”

“Isn’t that a given?” Evfra returns with a small shrug.

“Well, yeah, okay, I see your point,” Ryder mumbles. “But how does he describe me? Can I read some of his reports? Were they good descriptions of me or were they bad? Oh god, I bet Jaal called me a dumbass at some point. What’s the Shelesh word for it?  _ Vehshaanan? _ Yeah, that’s it. I bet he called me that.”

Evfra blinks at the sheer amount of words Ryder babbles off. “First off, no, you are not allowed to read classified Resistance documents,” he says. “Second, yes, he did call you  _ vehshaanan _ at some point in time. Third, please stop talking. I have additional meetings to attend to.” He shakes his head again and strides back to his table. He picks up a data-pad and keys in a few characters. “Very well, Pathfinder,” he says. “I grant you and your crew clearance to leave Aya with an angaran supervisor. I will assign someone to send periodic reports on your performance and behavior as well as some favors to prove your worth and value to my people and the Resistance.”

He passes the data-pad to Ryder. She takes it with shaking hands and hopes that Evfra doesn’t notice. She uses her omnitool to scan through the angaran characters and almost sags with unimaginable relief. Full clearance for both her and her crew. Passcodes to the vaults where their equipment was kept. Flight codes for the Tempest. Ryder looks up at Evfra again and notices the way that he seems almost… Exhausted. Worn-out. Tired. When he notices her looking, he abruptly turns and returns to his work on the table.

“Thank you,” Ryder says. She hesitates before she says, “Stay strong and clear, Evfra. I’ll do my best to uphold my end of the deal.”

Evfra doesn’t reply, so Ryder exhales out slowly. She makes her back to the door, but just before she leaves, she hears Evfra reply quietly and wearily,  _ “Isharay,  _ Pathfinder. Stay strong and clear.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> life is getting busier and busier, but i'm doing my best to keep writing in the midst of it. sorry to keep y'all waiting + i hope you enjoyed the new update!


	10. no regrets

The next morning on Aya is brilliant as ever, and Ryder sucks in a deep breath of air when she steps out of her cell. There are no guards; she only has a data pad from Evfra with a map loaded onto it. Oh, she has absolutely no doubt that there are eyes still watching her, but the illusion of freedom is deliciously satisfying.

She takes in as much of the sight of the beautiful planet as she can. In spite of all the things she’s endured here, Aya’s beauty is undeniable, and Ryder doesn’t know if she’ll ever be allowed to come back. Perhaps she would be forced to stay in orbit and remotely transmit reports back to Evfra. Perhaps this entire thing was a sham and she’d be incarcerated again on Voeld or Havarl. Ryder doesn’t know, but she moves on forward, step by step. She can’t afford to doubt; she doesn’t have the time.

She arrives in the hangar, and the data-pad blinks a bright blue at her. “ARRIVED AT DESTINATION” reads in bold angaran print, and it takes only a few moments for SAM to accurately translate it using her ocular data. Ryder looks up and squints against the brightness of the gleaming sun. The bridge is down, and she walks across it before breaking into a joyful sprint. She even lets ou a wild whoop as she runs towards _her ship._ It’s the few places that she can really call home and certainly the only real home she has here in Andromeda. The Nexus is still too bare and cold for her to think of it as “home” in her mind. No, the Tempest is her home, and it’s back with her.

There’s a tall and distinctly angaran figure waiting by the edge of the ship. He has his back turned away from her, but he glances back at the sound of Ryder’s whoop. Ryder skids to a halt in front of him and gapes at him. “Wait, why are you here?” she sputters out.

Because it’s Jaal Ama Darav.

He puts his own data-pad away and strides over to Ryder as he says, “Do you not want me here? I can leave if you want.”

“No, don’t go,” Ryder blurts out. She folds her arms tight to her chest and says more quietly, “Stay. Please.”

Jaal chuckles at that. “Good. I legally cannot leave,” he says with a bright sparkle in his eyes. “Evfra would kill me if I did.” He gestures up to the Tempest. “I requested to be assigned to this mission specifically. The Resistance needs eyes on the Initiative, and I would be glad to be the one to do it.”

Ryder pauses him by holding up her hand. “Alright, hold up,” she says with narrowed eyes. “One. You _asked_ to be assigned here? With me? And two. Are you going to spy on me?”

Jaal plucks the data-pad out of Ryder’s grasp and says, “Yes to one, not quite for two. I would value the opportunity to spend more time with you, Ryder, and I _am_ the one with the most skill and experience with Milky Way communication.” A shit-eating grin creeps across his face as he jokes, “Also, you should be happy to have the privilege to travel with me.”

“Oh, sure, the _privilege,”_ Ryder says as she rolls her eyes. “Sure, sure, Poncho.”

Jaal splays his hand across his chest, right above his heart, in mock shock. “Ryder. I have one of the highest ranks within the Resistance,” he exclaims. He starts listing off his various accomplishments with his fingers as he continues to speak, “I was one of the Moshae’s apprentices, one of the Resistance’s top technicians, and now, the lead communicator and ambassador between the Initiative and the Resistance. It is indeed a privilege.” He pauses and shuts one eye to peer at her with the other. The joking smile drops off, and with a far more sober expression, he says, “And when you visit Havarl and Voeld to gain Evfra’s trust, you will need me there to broker a peace between your people and mine.”

Ryder flicks his shoulder and teases, “Oh. So, you were never really joking about being someone important in the Resistance.”

“Ryder, they put me on Resistance recruitment posters for a reason,” Jaal says flatly.

Ryder flushes a pale pink as she mumbles, “I just thought that was because you were pretty.”

Jaal pauses before he leans down towards Ryder and cocks his head. “You think I am pretty?” he asks.

Oh, _no,_ he has that look on his face again. The kind of look that makes Ryder know that she’s being backed up into a corner. Damn his quick wit and hearing. “God, of course that’s what you fixate on,” she grumbles.

Jaal circles around her, and Ryder reluctantly follows him with her gaze. “No, no, do tell me more, Ryder,” he croons. “I would _love_ to know your opinion on my physical appearance.”

“Oh, you vain little— _Fine,_ I think you’re pretty,” Ryder snaps. She waves at him and continues, “With all the purples and lavenders and your shiny, starry eyes and your ridiculously buff arms. Happy?”

It’s true. Ryder doesn’t remember seeing any person, human or alien, with as many soft and luminous colors as Jaal. His personality matches as well, and it makes for a devastating combination. She dated an asari once; the effect is rather similar. Maybe Ryder just has a weakness for pretty faces? She’s not quite sure, but she certainly hates admitting the fact.

In her ear, SAM quietly murmurs, “Pathfinder, blood is rushing near the surface of skin, particularly on the face and mainly concentrated in the cheeks and ears.”

“Not necessary,” she hisses under her breath.

Jaal stops in front of Ryder and smiles, “Yes. Yes, it is necessary, and yes, I am happy.”

Ryder casts her gaze away and once again, grumbles, “And honest to boot. God, I’m embarrassed now.” She tries to rub at her face, hoping that the blush across her face will dissipate, but she’s not sure if it works or not.

Jaal gently turns her face back to face him and murmurs, “There is no need to be embarrassed about honesty. For what it is worth, I think you are fascinating, Ryder. Strong, passionate, and so incredibly _fascinating.”_ His voice seems to drop an octave as he continues to speak, and Ryder shivers.

“Oh,” she says blankly. “Okay.”

Jaal shrugs. The motion is much more natural on him with the practice now. “I only tell the truth, Ryder,” he tells her.

“Alright. Cool. Cool. I’m cool with this,” Ryder says, trying to pull her composure back together. She shakes her shoulders and cracks her knuckles before she says, “Let’s get on board now. I’m sure everyone else is already waiting for us.”

She holds out a hand for Jaal to take, and Jaal takes it willingly after he tucks their data-pads away into his satchel. She guides him up the bridge and into the airlock. “Welcome aboard the Tempest,” she whispers in an almost-reverent tone.

_Welcome back home,_ she thinks for both SAM and herself.

The minute she and Jaal arrive in the Tempest safe and sound, she hears a high-pitched voice cry out, “Ryder!”

Ryder looks towards the source of the sound and sees a red-haired woman running to tackle her into a hug. “Suvi!” Ryder cries back as she catches Suvi into a big hug.

“Oh, it’s so good to see you!” Suvi says as she squeezes Ryder tight. She pulls back to get a good look at Ryder’s face. “I barely got to see you while we were incarcerated and suddenly, one angara comes up to tell us that we’re _free to leave!_ Can you imagine that!”

“I’m pretty sure she’s the one responsible for that,” a different voice points out. Ryder cranes her neck to see Gil leaning against the burnished metal wall of the Tempest. “Nice to see you again, Ryder,” he says with a little salute.

“Nice to see you too, Gil,” Ryder laughs. “God, I missed you all so much.”

She hears heavy footsteps against the metal, and a deep, growling voice says, “Ryder.”

There’s only one person in her entire crew that sounds like he has rocks caught in his throat, and without even looking, Ryder says, “Good to see — well, hear — you, Drack.” She side-steps around Suvi to get a better look at Drack. He’s leaning heavily on a thick, reinforced cane, and he certainly doesn’t look a bit happy about it. Dr. T’Perro is beside him, ready to steady him should he need it. “Drack!? Are you okay?” Ryder gapes.

“Never been better,” Drack says.

Ryder doesn’t believe him. She looks towards Lexi and asks, “Lexi, is he okay?”

Lexi glances at Drack and says, “He’ll be alright. I’m slowly weaning him off the tranquilizers and the sedatives.”

“Sedatives?!” Ryder sputters. “Oh my god, are you okay?! I thought that we brokered a deal to take you off of those immediately!”

“It’ll be fine, Ryder,” Lexi calmly repeats. “Krogan biological systems process chemicals much faster, and I’ve directly injected some medication into his bloodstream for a faster uptake. He’ll be on a derivative of phenobarbital for a little while before his systems adjust and return back to a normal state. It has a half-life of more than 86 hours for bipedal creatures our size, so I’d estimate that it’ll take Drack around 43 hours for the medication to process through and ease him through the withdrawal process. The angara have… Creative pharmaceutical techniques.”

“Those purple pyjaks just never quit,” Drack grumbles. “But let them try to give me all the shots and pills they want. It’ll take more than that to take out a Nakmor.”

“It may take more than that to take out a _healthy_ Nakmor,” Lexi corrects. “Your synthetic organs are durable, but they don’t automatically repair as fast or as efficiently as regular ones would. Take this one easy for a few days, and then, I’ll have you back on the battlefield to crush heads or whatever you want to do.”

“I want to fling a few of those ugly kett bastards into a canyon,” Drack says. He looks over at Ryder and laughs, “You can do that thing where you charge directly into a kett and knock him over the edge.”

Liam and Vetra shoulder their way through to clap Ryder on the shoulders.

“We have our squadmate back again!” Liam crows. “What did Drack say? Something about flinging kett into the canyons. I’m game; let’s go. You, me, Vetra. We’ll be unstoppable.”

Ryder laughs and lets Liam elbow her and ruffle her hair. Vetra, on the other hand, takes a step back and studies her face and her body. Then, she relaxes and sighs, “Good. No bruises, no scratches.”

“What do you mean?” Ryder asks.

Vetra flares her mandibles out and explains, “Some of us got… A little annoyed. A little stressed.”

A voice rings out over Vetra’s voice to say, “What Vetra means is that I got into a fistfight with an angaran scientist when he tried to nab a Remnant piece of tech in my pocket.” Peebee drags along a distinctly annoyed-looking Cora along with her and beams, “I won the fight if you wanted to know.”

“That was not a good idea, and it will never be a good idea,” Cora snaps to Peebee. Her eyes soften when she looks at Ryder, and she waves hello. “Good to see you, Pathfinder. Have we been cleared for flight?”

Kallo steps up and nods. “I just received the proper flight codes from the Resistance, Pathfinder,” he says. “Ready to go whenever you are.”

Ryder looks around at her crew. Their faces are all alight with a kind of excitement that she doesn’t remember seeing on them for so long. The spark of adventure is alive and well, and she can feel a current of enthusiasm running through all of them with a vivacity that startles her.

She glances back at Jaal who shifts his feet awkwardly. His eyes meets with Ryder, and she gives him a reassuring smile. “Hey, everyone,” she says as she steps aside. She gestures to Jaal and says, “This is Jaal Ama Darav. He’ll be our primary liaison between the Resistance and the Initiative for now, and he’ll be accompanying us to Voeld and Havarl.”

“Why Voeld? Why Havarl?” Cora asks. “Why don’t we just go directly to the vault on Aya?”

“Because,” Jaal finally says. “You must first earn Evfra’s trust before you enter.” He tilts his head to the side and says, “And moreover, you will need the Moshae with you when you enter the vault. Unfortunately, you do not have much choice in this matter.”

“Really now,” Cora says. She folds her arms and gives Jaal a once-over. “And you can’t do anything about that?”

“No, I cannot,” Jaal replies evenly. “This was as much as I could bargain with Evfra.”

“And why are you doing this for us?” Vetra asks now. “What do you have to gain from this?”

Ryder looks at Vetra and sees the cold, calculating look settle over her face. Vetra looks like that when she’s running through inventory checks or analyzing something new from the black market the Initiative exiles are running. It’s the part of Vetra that is honed to a keen, sharp edge, and Vetra wields this part of her so well that it is almost a weapon in her deadly hands. It is also a part of Vetra that surfaces more when the people that she loves are in danger. This is something that SAM tells her, a truth hidden in the data and the statistics that he dredges up, but Ryder can glimpse the kind parts of Vetra among them. And now, she sees Vetra turn on Jaal with too much suspicion in her eyes.

“Nothing,” Jaal quietly says. “I gave up a promotion to accompany you all.”

Ryder chokes out a gasp and says, “You didn’t tell me that.”

Jaal looks over at her, and his expression melts into such a soft look that it makes Ryder want to shake the kindness out of him. She would stuff more common sense in place of it, but he shrugs and says, “I did not think it was necessary. I told you already, Ryder. I am choosing to be here because I want to. I would like to follow you to the stars and to the icy mountains of Voeld and the lush jungles of Havarl. And I am choosing this because I believe that there is something to be learned and to be discovered in this journey with you and the rest of your crew. I believe you are different than the kett, and I can only hope that my reports and my observations will change the minds of others in the Resistance.”

Vetra sighs and relaxes her mandibles. She glances over at Ryder who’s still standing there, almost frozen still. Ryder simply gapes at Jaal. She can’t understand _why_ he gave up something like a promotion to be here with her. It’s absolutely confounding, so she turns on her heel so she doesn’t have to look at his infuriatingly kind face anymore. She looks up to see Liam and Vetra share some sort of meaningful look. Behind them, Cora arches an eyebrow and Peebee waggles her fingers at Ryder.

Ryder shoots a dirty look at them all before she sighs and starts pacing back and forth. “Alright,” she exhales out. “You and I are going to have a _chat_ about this promotion you gave up, but for now, we have to discuss our game plan. Havarl and Voeld, you said?”

“Yes, Havarl and Voeld,” Jaal confirms. “Havarl is a tropical jungle world while Voeld is more of an icy wasteland. You already know the details of what Evfra and the Resistance expects you to do, and Evfra mentioned that he would send a message to you via my own terminal. We still haven’t figured out how to bridge the gap between your communication devices and ours in an efficient manner for long-distance travel, so we decided that this would be better. If you have anything you would like to send to Evfra or the Resistance, please feel free to speak with me.”

Cora swivels her head towards Ryder and says, “Alright, what’s this about Havarl and Voeld?”

“I made a deal with Evfra and Jaal. We would help them with their own missions, and they would give us access to their functional vault,” Ryder explains. She starts walking up to the meeting room and whispers to SAM to activate a map of the galaxy. She focuses in on Voeld, Havarl, and Aya on the holographic project and turns back to Cora and the others. They slowly throng around the meeting room, and Ryder continues, “They don’t trust us. This is a first step towards establishing better relations between both of our peoples.”

Her voice grows quieter as she continues, “And this is how I bargained for your freedom. This is the best deal that I could work out of him. Anything is better than being a prisoner.” Her gaze drifts over to Drack who still looks woozy and Peebee who still has scars and bruises dotting her blue skin from whatever fight she got into. She doesn’t want to admit it to Evfra, but if she knew more details about her crew prior to making the deal, she would’ve been willing to pay anything to let her crew go. Even a lesser deal.

She quickly debriefs with her crew. There are some aspects of the Tempest that have been tampered with during their absence by the angaran scientists; Kallo and Gil are both incandescent in their irritation and almost-fury in this. Ryder wonders if this is the first thing that they’ve ever agreed on. Cora and Vetra have been working on synthesizing more food and managing the greenhouse they have in the bio lab. Peebee has reclaimed several pieces of Rem-tech from the angara and complains about how some of the scientists weren’t willing to share information. When Ryder asks how she managed to communicate before the translators’ existence, Peebee shrugs and makes several hand gestures that make Jaal cringe. Liam and the others have spent the entire day doing some spring cleaning on the Tempest and calibrating all the necessary equipment, tools, and interfaces.

After that, Jaal steps up to explain some of the intricacies of Evfra’s assignments. Ryder cross-references his information and finds out that Voeld was labeled as Habitat 6 and Havarl as Habitat 3 according to Initiative documents. Both were projected to be life-sustaining golden worlds, and Jaal does confirm that once upon a time, both planets were thriving angaran colonies according to their own historical records. But now, Voeld is a world frozen over and entombed in permanent ice while Havarl is shaking through a strange, maladaptive growth pattern across its lush jungles.

Her crew asks a couple questions. As expected, Peebee tries to interrogate Jaal on Remnant presence on both worlds. Cora asks more questions about Havarl’s ecology while Vetra shudders at the mere mention of Voeld. But sooner or later, her crew filters out to do their own jobs. Jaal and Ryder are the only ones left in the meeting room, and Jaal gazes at her through the projections of Voeld. Ryder dismisses the hologram and arches an eyebrow at Jaal. “Did you need something?” she asks.

“No, I just wanted to look at you,” he admits. “I already moved in my personal items prior to your arrival.”

“Why were you outside the Tempest for me then?” Ryder asks. She places her hands on her hips and regards Jaal with a confounded expression.

Jaal fiddles with the edge of his rofjinn and quietly says, “I wanted to wait for you.”

“Ah,” Ryder says blankly. She doesn’t really know how to respond to that. In all circumstances including this one, she is immensely grateful that Jaal Ama Darav is her friend rather than her enemy. But at the same time, she wonders what exactly is motivating him to give up so much for the sake of this mission. Vetra was right; it’s a question that merits asking. His curiosity? In that regard, he is insatiable, but Ryder doesn’t know how far he’ll go for it. Is he hoping for a better position in the Resistance after this? But he just said that he gave up a promotion for this.

Ryder sighs and shakes her head. She glances up at Jaal and says, “I can take you back to the crew’s quarters. I already gave you the tour, so you know where everything is, right?”

Jaal circles around the meeting to stand by Ryder’s side as she starts descending down the stairs. “Not quite,” he tells her. “I did not fit in the beds in the crew’s quarters very well, and the only beds that would have fit me was already occupied. I decided to take the tech lab as my place of residence for now.”

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” Ryder says with wide eyes. “Shit, I should’ve thought about that. I can ask Vetra if we still have krogan-sized beds in the inventory or see if we can pick up something from the Nexus.”

“No, it is alright,” Jaal chuckles. “I brought my own pillows and bedding, and our current assignments are more pressing.”

“But the tech lab? That’s such a tiny place to sleep in,” Ryder says, absolutely aghast. “I mean, I think there’s enough room for a cot, but we’ve crammed so many bits and pieces of tech. You’re also going to have to fight Peebee for some space in there sometimes. I think she keeps her most precious projects to herself, but she still spends a fair amount of time in there.” She gestures over to the general direction of her own quarters and says, “If it gets too cramped in there, let me know and you can sleep in my quarters. God knows I have way too much room in there anyways.”

“Does that not breach some sort of human custom?” Jaal asks.

Ryder wrinkles her nose as she tries to think about it. “I guess? Maybe?” she says. “If we were back on Earth as regular civilians, maybe, but we could also just call it a sleepover party or call you a roommate. Either way, I don’t mind. It’s a survey ship, and things can get crowded sometimes. I’ve showered and eaten and almost died with my crew; we really don’t care too much about personal boundaries anymore.”

She considers her statement and revises, “Oh, but do _not_ touch Peebee’s Rem-tech, Liam’s teddy bear, and Suvi’s rocks. Peebee and Liam can and will fist-fight you about it, and Suvi sometimes tests rock samples by licking them. Oh, don’t look at me like that. I don’t really get it either, but she says that it’s a good test sometimes. But yeah, we’re all pretty comfortable with each other. Don’t do something stupid like running around the Tempest naked, but we’re pretty chill.”

Jaal pats her shoulder and chuckles, “Thank you for your offer. I will take you up on it should my current accommodations become uncomfortable.”

They’re at the door of the Tech Lab now, and Ryder unlocks the door. It slides open easily, and she steps inside. Like Jaal mentioned, there’s a large cot spread out in the corner of the lab. It’s right by a station that looks like it has angaran tech all over it already. The bedding looks the same as the squashy bed that was in Ryder’s cell, and she can see several boxes and a pack underneath the cot. Jaal walks over to the cot and sits down. He pats the space beside him while looking at Ryder.

Ryder relents with a small laugh and goes over to sit beside him. The door clicks shut behind her as she takes the step forward, and she settles down beside Jaal. Yep, this feels like the bed from her cell.

“So, we are heading to Voeld or Havarl,” Jaal muses. “It is strange to say this, but for the first time, I feel… Hopeful. Optimistic. Moreso than I have ever felt.”

“That’s good,” Ryder says. She looks over at him and admits, “Same here. I managed to boot up the vault on Eos, so I’m hoping that I can do the same thing for the other worlds.” She hesitates. Should she ask him about it? She swivels towards Jaal and takes the plunge by asking,”So, you were saying that you gave up a promotion for this?”

“I did, but I do not regret it,” Jaal says. His eyes gleam even brighter in the dim lighting of the tech lab, and he leans in closer, almost towering over Ryder. She looks up at him as he tells her, “I have the privilege of soaring among the stars with a friend by my side, and I know that we are going to save my people. What kind of promotion could compare to that prospect?”

Ryder blinks at him, and she can feel a soft current running over his skin. Their proximity is so close that she can feel it too, and she thinks she recognizes it as happiness or some other emotion like that. She’s not good at differentiating them by any means, but SAM can analyze it later. “So, are we friends?” she asks.

Jaal chuckles and reaches out to squeeze her hand. “I think we are,” he says. “If we were not, I would not be here.”

Ryder exhales softly and leans against Jaal. He’s warm, and his sheer size compared to hers makes it easy for her to use him as support. She fiddles absently with his rofjinn as she gazes at the angaran tech across the lab counter. “Good,” she murmurs. “I think we’re going to have a great time.”

She doesn’t remember when she does, but she falls asleep there, lulled by the warmth and comfort of Jaal’s presence. She wakes up in her own bed with the blankets carefully tucked around her and her pillows laid around her protectively. Ryder gazes at her ceiling before she hauls herself up and rubs the sleep out of her eyes. She searches through her memory for some indication as to how she got here, but Jaal’s warmth and his starry eyes are the only things she clearly remembers.


	11. level two cold hazards

The minute they reach Voeld’s orbit, Vetra looks out at the white, frosted planet before she turns to look Ryder with her mandibles splayed open wide. Ryder sighs as she runs a hand through her hair and says, “I guess we’re going to have to adjust the squad, huh.”

“Yeah, I’m not going out there,” Vetra says firmly. “I know you, Liam, and I always go out on planets the first time around, but I’m not stepping foot on Voeld until you fix the planet with SAM and the vault. If there even is a vault.”

Liam leans against the railing and laughs, “It can’t be that bad, Vetra. It’s just a bit of ice. We can just add an extra heater to your suit, and we’ll be good for the first squad out.”

“I’m a  _ turian, _ Liam,” Vetra says in the flattest tone possible. Her sub-vocals thrum underneath her voice as she insists, “We have plates to protect ourselves from extra solar radiation. We take sun baths regularly. I went four more hours longer than you on Eos because that’s  _ my _ style of weather. No, I’m not going out there in that miserable frozen wasteland of a planet. I’ll go with you to the jungle planet but not this one.” She cocks her head to the side and says, “Besides, isn’t Jaal supposed to go with you? Take him with you instead of me.”

“I’ll let Jaal know,” Ryder sighs as she turns away from the view. “Kallo, drop us down in fifteen.”

“Will do, Pathfinder,” Kallo responds as he adjusts their trajectory.

Ryder drops off a couple of heat packs by Vetra’s bunk before she suits up for Voeld. She runs into Jaal on the way to the airlock, and with an arched eyebrow, she asks, “What’s with the thinner suit?” 

Jaal’s suit isn’t nearly as padded as Ryder’s and although she still doesn’t recognize angaran tech well enough, the differences between their suits are clearly visible. 

Jaal gives Ryder a once-over before he comments, “I could ask you why your suit is so thick. It is only Voeld.”

“Voeld is a Level 2 Hazardous planet,” SAM speaks up. “Prolonged exposure to the elements on Voeld can and will cause hypothermia, frostbite, potential organ failure and subsequent death.”

Ryder gestures to her suit and says, “And  _ that’s  _ why I’ve got my suit with extra padding and heating elements. Why do you have such a thin suit?”

Jaal shrugs, “Then it seems as though the angara have greater temperature resistance than your kind do, and also, our tech may be more heat-efficient than yours. There are colonies on Voeld still that survive those conditions every day.”

“Wh—“ Ryder splutters. “It’s so cold down there though!”

Jaal chuckles and taps his suit. “Do not worry,” he tells her. “I have been on Voeld before in this suit and survived multiple missions.” His expression sobers as he says, “The kett are slowly taking over the planet, heedless of the ice. It is becoming problematic for the people who live here, and more and more of our people disappear every day by the hands of the kett. I can see why Evfra requested that you come here and offer help on our outposts here.” 

He lifts up his arm and peers at the new omnitool attachments and the additional auxiliary systems hammered into his suit. Now that is something that Ryder clearly recognizes as Milky Way tech. “I do not know how to use this omnitool well, but I trust that it will come in handy,” he says. “I am now fully integrated into Initiative systems and should be able to communicate on the main comm line and connect back with the Tempest.”

“Correct, but I would still advise you to take caution, Jaal Ama Darav,” SAM says. “Any malfunction of Initiative systems integrated with angaran technology will result in a malfunction with all other integrated systems. A further analysis of angaran technology is required to develop more efficient and safer systems. I would recommend that you begin research on this matter as soon as possible, Pathfinder.”

Ryder nods and says, “Thanks, SAM. I really appreciate it. I’ll figure something out once we get this business on Voeld figured out.”

After she finishes her sentence, Liam comes bounding up to them with a grin. “Ready for the next adventure?” he asks.

Liam’s grin is infectious, and Ryder finds herself smiling along. “Of course,” she says as she elbows him gently. It doesn’t do much considering their armor and the playfulness of the gesture, but the motion gets the meaning across. “And I’ll bet I’ll beat you this time in the kett count. After all, I won.”

“Your win doesn’t count because you just ran over a whole regiment of kett with your bad driving,” Liam grumbles.

“A whole regiment?” Jaal interjects. There’s a bright look that creeps into his eyes, and he sounds absolutely delighted.

Ryder looks away from him, unable to meet his gaze properly. “Well, yeah,” she awkwardly says as her face flushes bright red.

It was a bright and miserably sunny day on Eos, and Ryder couldn’t see quite as well as she was driving. Both the sun glinting in her eyes as well as the loud complaints about her driving abilities were distracting her from driving properly. Somehow, in that expanse of dust and sun-scorched rocks, Ryder managed to find a kett base and completely destroy it in a series of large, careening swerves and a good amount of screaming from everyone else in the back. To be fair, she wasn’t really aware of it until afterwards, but that was an event that no one on the Tempest let her live it down.

“Trust Ryder to kill a bunch of kett with her driving skills alone,” Liam scoffs. “Who allowed you to get a license in the first place? Anyways, I’m going to emphasize the fact that  _ I  _ would have won the competition if you hadn’t run over the kett with the Nomad rover.”

“Alright, alright,” Ryder says with a nudge on Liam’s shoulder. “I learned how to drive rovers on one of the original Makos in the Alliance.”

“Oh, that explains it,” Liam says with the biggest grimace she’s seen on his face for the entire day. When Jaal looks at the two of them, utterly confused, Liam sighs, “The M35 Mako is quite possibly the worst vehicle in service in the Alliance. Well,  _ was _ the worst vehicle. It’s been 600 light-years or so, so they probably improved it since then, but the M35 Mako was an infantry fighting vehicle mainly designed for frigates in the Alliance. It was cramped on the inside and covered all over in armor and had the worst driving controls, even worse than the previous M29 Grizzly.” Liam shakes his head. “Never went into Alliance directly, but I had to drive one during one HUSTL test mission. Crashed into a tree immediately.”

“That’s because you didn’t  _ understand _ the Mako,” Ryder complains. “You have to move and drive along with it, not against it. You force it to the max and let the momentum take you places too.  _ Also, _ the Mako is a great vehicle. Commander Shepard rode that thing through tons of geth bases and landed back on the Citadel in it, and it only needed a few repairs. Reliable, serviceable, deployable on any world, and armed with artillery. What more do you want from a vehicle? Seats upholstered with expensive suede leather? Cup holders? A mini-fridge on the inside?”

“Yeah, that  _ definitely _ explains your driving style,” Liam groans. He eyes Jaal carefully and warns, “Never get into a car that Ryder drives.”

Ryder smacks him on the shoulder and laughs, “Alright, enough of that. Let’s go down to Voeld. And surprise, surprise! We’re taking the Nomad on a joy ride to Resistance HQ.”

Their landing is as smooth as expected. Which is to say, not smooth at all. 

The winds and snows that buffet the planet make the landing shaky, and Ryder can instantly feel the cold despite the layers of padding and heating elements she has stacked up in her suit. Liam shivers as well, but Jaal stretches in the snow and sighs, “Ah, Voeld.” 

Ryder leaps for the driver’s seat in the Nomad, and for once, Liam clambers into the Nomad without any complaints. “Turn the heat up,” he says over the comm line. Ryder can hear his teeth chattering from the cold. Ryder nods and amps up the heating. Slowly, the Nomad warms up to a tolerable temperature. It’s still  _ cold,  _ but now, Ryder doesn’t feel like she’s going to freeze to death.

Their trip up to Resistance HQ is relatively smooth after that. As Ryder navigates the cliffs and frozen wastelands, she spots tall kett bases in the distance. The style of their buildings contrasts harshly against the glimmering white expanses and the old, frozen ruins of angaran civilizations, permanently frozen into slim, swooping lines. 

They do have to get out of the Nomad and use their jump jets to make their way towards the angaran base. There are solar heaters dotted around the vicinity, and Jaal shows them how he navigates the shelves of ice for maximum survival and warmth. Ryder and Liam exchange looks before they leap off the ice together. Ryder uses both her jump jets and her biotics to make it over some of the particularly wide gaps from heater to heater, but eventually, they make it to the base alive.

Anjik Do Xeel, the angaran commander at HQ, is curt and brisk. She almost reminds Ryder of Evfra, but there’s a spark of warmth in her eyes when she speaks with Jaal. When Ryder compares her impression of Anjik to Evfra, she thinks that almost all the kindness has been hammered out of him. He only has the fury and the determination to tide him over, but at her very core, Anjik is still  _ kind, _ and it shows. She tells Ryder that Evfra keeps them all going, and Ryder can tell that Anjik looks up to Evfra de Tershaav. But still, Ryder thinks that Anjik has that streak of open, vulnerable kindness to her.

Jaal ends up having to translate for them to most of the other angara. The programs and the software that Evfra sent to the Resistance bases on Havarl and Voeld are both largely incompatible with some of their hardware. There are some pieces of angaran tech that have the hard drive space and the technological ability to run the program, but they are scarce. At least Anjik has one.

“Why are you doing this?” she finally asks Ryder just before Ryder turns to leave. Ryder glances back at her, and Anjik folds her arms. “To what purpose, what higher goal, do you have beyond this?” she asks.

“I said it already,” Ryder says honestly. “I’m here to be useful. I’m here to help. I’m here to establish better relations between my people and yours.”

“I didn’t ask what your organization wanted,” Anjik says. “I asked you why  _ you _ were doing this. Everyone has their own ulterior motive beyond their organization, beyond their work. We all do. So, Pathfinder, what are  _ you _ here for? Why are you doing this? Why did you build a translator? Why are you working so hard instead of taking what you want through different methods?”

Ryder blinks at Anjik’s sudden intensity. Not that Anjik wasn’t serious before, but now, there’s a fire burning in the back of Anjik’s eyes that is genuine and true. She considers Anjik’s question. Why is she doing this? Why did she build a translator? Why is she currying Evfra’s favor instead of forcing her own way into the vaults? 

Ryder feels like she’s scraping off a scab off — off of her heart, her mind, the deepest, darkest parts of her — when she finally says softly, “I am doing this because this is what my father would have wanted.” 

When she says it out loud, she can picture her father in her head, dressed in the same N7 armor that he never gave up. She can picture the straightness of his shoulders, the quiet stoicness that kept him going in the roughest times, and the stubbornness that made his eyes flash bright and his will strong as steel. The old grief still stings in her heart at the thought, and Ryder has to inhale a short, sharp breath before she continues.

“I have done all that I have done so far, and I am doing everything that I am doing now because I believe,” she says. She gathers some strength to her voice, and with conviction, she tells Anjik, “Because I believe in diplomacy and honor and friendship rather than force and violence and brutality. That is the line that separates both my people and me from the kett. That is the line that I refuse to cross, no matter how much the circumstances may call for it. I have no intentions to hurt the angara. In fact, I would like us to be friends, to be partners, to be allies in this fight against the kett. Those are my true answers to your questions, Commander Do Xeel.” She dips into an angaran bow and says, “I’ll be heading out to the lookout and find the people you were looking for then. Please contact me if there is any additional issue that you’d like me to tackle.”

She avoids Liam’s and Jaal’s gaze when she straightens up. A single nod from Anjik is all that it takes for Ryder to hurry out of the base with her shoulders stiff and her gaze firmly set downwards. She spoke the truth to Anjik Do Xeel, and although she doesn’t regret it, it made her feel vulnerable. 

Jaal is the first one to catch up to her by virtue of his long strides, and he calls out, “Ryder! Please wait!”

Ryder doesn’t wait. She doesn’t wait until she reaches the outskirts of the Resistance base and faces the maze of solar heaters and the snowstorm that batters the mountain cliffs. Then, she’s forced to stand and wait for both Jaal and Liam.

“That was excellent,” Jall tells her, breathless from running and with something else making his voice sound deep and rich in Ryder’s comm line. 

Liam catches up as well and slaps Ryder on the back with a laugh. “Well said,” he says as well. “You were off like a bullet, so you didn’t see the way that Commander looked at you afterwards. With  _ respect, _ Ryder. Feels like the first Pathfinder mission that’s gone well.”

Ryder flushes red, and she’s sure that the color is obvious and evident through her helmet. “We’re not done with it yet,” she mumbles. “We’ve still got the rest of this icy wasteland to go through, a lookout to find, and kett to kill. Don’t count your chickens before they’re hatched, Liam.”

“I’m allowed to be hopeful,” Liam says as he elbows her teasingly. He turns to face the snowstorm as well, and Ryder can hear his soft gasp through the comm. “You may be right,” he amends. “That’s a lot of snow.” 

And indeed, the snowstorm’s gotten worse. They have no choice but to plunge right into the fray though. The wind howls at them, dogging their heels with a kind of intensity that makes Ryder swear worse than she’s ever done before. The ice bites through her shields and her heating to leave her limbs shaking. The storm grows worse and worse, and Ryder has to squint against the blanket of white that coats this entire damn mountain.

By this point, they’ve only made it through the first two sets of solar lamps, and now, they have a longer stretch until they reach a minor forward station with adequate heating. On her map, it shows that she should be able to see the station clearly from her position, but she can’t see anything but white. She cranes her head around to try and find Liam and Jaal, but it’s to no avail. 

“Pathfinder, your suit integrity is decreasing,” SAM says. His voice is perfectly modulated to be flat and informative — like the way he was coded to be — but his words slip out of Ryder’s implant with a faster speed as if he was urging her onward. SAM pauses for a millisecond before he tacks on, “This is a Level Two hazard zone, Pathfinder. I estimate that you have fifteen minutes before the integrity of your suit is compromised.”

“Shit,” Ryder swears under her breath. She braces herself against the wind and opens up the main team comm line. “Everyone, we’re heading back to the last station right after we finished that last set of solar lamps. You know the one? We’re going to wait this damn blizzard out. We won’t be able to make it to the heating lamps at this rate. Do you copy?”

“Will do,” Liam’s voice crackles in. “See you there in five.”

Ryder instinctively nods before she realizes that Liam can’t hear her. She shrugs and turns back but then, she realizes that she hasn’t heard Jaal’s voice yet. “Jaal, I said, do you copy?” Ryder repeats.

“What?” Jaal echoes. His voice sounds more tinny than Liam’s as it goes through the comm line. 

“I said,” Ryder repeats. “We’re heading back to the last station. The blizzard’s too strong, and I won’t risk it.”

“What?” Jaal says again. This time, his comm line completely cuts out, and Ryder is left with a sickening silence. 

“Did you hear that? What’s happening?” Liam calls in on the comms.

Ryder looks at the blizzard and then back in the direction that she came from. She checks her map on her omnitool and makes sure that there aren’t any cliffs that she could accidentally tumble off of. “You said that I had fifteen minutes, right?” she asks SAM.

“Correct,” he replies instantly. 

Ryder opens up the comm line again. She marshals her nerves and her fears into place before she clears her throat and says, “Retreat back to forward station as ordered, Kosta. I’m going to get Ama Darav. Do not disobey orders, Kosta. I expect to see you at the station. Pathfinder, over.” She uses formality like armor — last names and a tone that only her father would use — as a way to hide the way her fear shakes her from the heart outward. She clicks off the comm line; hearing anything more from Liam would shake her own resolve. She already knows that this is a foolish and reckless idea, but she doesn’t want to lose a crew member in this blizzard. She doesn’t want to lose Jaal.

“Make sure I don’t fall off a cliff,” she says to SAM. “Any hints on his location?” 

“No, we have lost all connection with Jaal Ama Darav,” SAM tells her.

_ Fuck, it’s cold, _ Ryder thinks as she shoulders her way through the cold. The wind howls around her, but Ryder screams Jaal’s name even louder. She brings up the last known source of Jaal’s signal on her map and follows that as viciously as she can, steeling her body and her nerves against the cold. 

Time passes by with a kind of speed that seems to rival the wind speed of this blasted blizzard. Her suit starts to make creaking sounds as she walks, and the edges of her visual interface across her helmet blink red to indicate that her suit can’t take much more. Ryder ignores the red to yell Jaal’s name even louder. At some point, she resorts to screaming nicknames and other epithets like “big guy” and “Poncho.” She even screams out  _ vehshanaan _ as loud as she can. But in the end, she finds no answer. 

Now, ten minutes have gone by, and Ryder doesn’t even know if she’ll make it back to the station in time. Then, she trips over a lump in the snow. “Oh my god, what the fuck,” she swears under her breath. Ryder hauls herself up from the powdery snow and then realizes that she’s tripped over Jaal’s prone body.

She hurries to his side and turns his face up. SAM runs a quick scan for analysis and then says, “He is alive, Pathfinder, and his body vitals are stable. It appears as though his communication devices connected with the Initiative network have all failed, and that caused several other parts of his suit such as his temperature monitors and regulators to become impaired. His oxygen regulators are still functioning, but he has five to ten minutes left.”

Ryder doesn’t respond. Instead, she’s busy hauling Jaal up and draping one of his bulky arms around her shoulders. She checks the time on her visual interface. Only five minutes left. “SAM, increase and calibrate my body’s abilities to the maximum. You can do that with my profile, can’t you?”

“Yes, Pathfinder, but if you choose to override the set parameters, you will not stay conscious once the effect wears off,” SAM warns.

“How long will I have?” Ryder asks.

“If you wish to go the maximum amount, I can do so for ten minutes before it overloads your central nervous system,” SAM answers. “You may experience negative side-effects from an overload, Pathfinder. Risks include paralysis, unconsciousness, and potential heart failure.”

“I don’t have that kind of time,” Ryder bites back. “I just need five minutes. Now, it’s four. I need four minutes to haul Jaal back to the station. Can you help me do that or not, SAM? You have access to my brain, so take it.”

“Understood, Pathfinder,” SAM says slowly. 

Ryder sighs and hoists Jaal up. Her body is so, so cold, and she feels too sluggish for what she has to do. But then, she feels a thrill run down her body, and it feels like she’s drank 25 cups of caffeine. She supports Jaal’s body and strains forward, step by step by step. Her body is warming up now, uncomfortably warm within the constraints of her suit, but logically, Ryder knows that her time is running out.

Halfway towards the station, Jaal regains a modicum of consciousness and shuffles his feet along. That helps immensely, but Ryder still supports the majority of his weight. Liam tries to call in on the main comm line, but Ryder shuts it down. She has three minutes left; she can’t afford to waste time and energy on talking. She summons up her biotics to the forefront and uses her biotics to speed her momentum. She even uses her jump jets to launch herself forward when she manages to get to a place where the mountains and sheets of ice and rock block the wind somewhat. Her body feels like it’s on fire, but Ryder grits her teeth and keeps going.

Finally, she can see the dim glow of the forward station and the sound of a screaming voice. A grin breaks over Ryder’s tired face as she realizes it’s Liam. She summons up all of her biotics for the final stretch and forces herself forward, heedless of the wind and snow and the burning of her muscles and the protest of her lungs. Her skin feels like it’ll rip apart, but her final lunge forward is enough to get them near the first heating lamp. 

Ryder sinks to the ground with Jaal still in her arms and revels in the sheer wonder of  _ heat. _ Liam and a few other angara hurry over to her, but she manages to get out, “Don’t touch me, I’m on overload.” Her biotics still crackle erratically over her skin, and it paints her entire suit over in shimmering blue and purple. Jaal’s own skin takes up some of her energy and sparks with dangerous energy. Ryder looks over at him and whispers to SAM, “Is he going to be okay?” 

“My calculations indicate that with proper temperature adjustment and suit repairs, Jaal Ama Darav will be fine,” SAM says. “Shutting down profile overload, readjusting neural synapses. You now have approximately fifteen to twenty minutes until you require additional sleep to counteract the profile maximum, Pathfinder.”

“Good,” Ryder says as she forces herself to get up on her feet. Her limbs feel like they’re screaming in protest, but she hauls both herself and Jaal up. “That’s all the time I need to get us back to a safe room.” She looks up and asks, “Can anybody lead us to a room?”

The angara look at her with blank faces, and Ryder spits out a long string of swears under her breath. She forgot that this forward station still lacked adequate translation resources, and Jaal’s communications are down. Ryder casts a desperate look around the room before she tries in both Shelesh and English,  _ “Jaal nai draun ba sovosa. _ He’s not dead but he’s unconscious.  _ Kosa taan set bosavanj.  _ Please,  _ shaas, _ we need a room.” 

Her Shelesh is rusty, and the cold makes it hard for her to shape out the sounds and syllables properly. But it’s enough. Thank god it’s enough. One angara nods and starts guiding her to a room with a squashy cots and a heating lamp right by it. He also points out an additional room that they can stay in, and Ryder gratefully thanks the guard in Shelesh. Liam hovers beside her, but she tiredly points to the other room and says, “Get some rest, Liam. We’re taking a break and switching up the squad after that.” She holds up her hand to stop Liam’s immediate protests and says, “No, Liam, this is not up for debate. We’ve been on this planet too long. For one, Dr. T’Perro would kill me for letting you all get frostbite, and two, you need some rest.” Her tone brooks no arguments, and although she can’t quite see Liam clearly through her frosted helmet, she knows that he’s not happy. “Don’t look at me like that,” she sighs. “I need you healthy and alive, Liam. How else are we gonna find new planets together?”

“Alright,” Liam says unwillingly. “That room, right? And what about Jaal? You’ve got that handled?”

“Yep and yep,” Ryder says. “I’ve got it all handled.”

She really doesn’t, but she has to fake it until she makes it at the very least.

She turns and enters the room, and with as much care as she possibly can, she eases Jaal onto the cot. Now that they’re safely in the forward station, she removes their helmets and checks the time. Ten minutes left until she collapses.

Ryder plucks Jaal’s visor off of his head and starts inspecting it with a scan. SAM identifies a few problems on Jaal’s translator as well as some of his suit software that was hooked up to the Initiative network. She pries off the hardware for the translator off the visor and unscrews the tiny metal plate off. Frost coats the inside of it, and Ryder hurriedly wipes off the frost before the heating lamp melts it and destroys the translator even more. She swears under her breath as she realizes that the sheer cold of Voeld is slowly freezing Jaal’s makeshift translator and breaking down its internal components. They built it on Aya; they had no need for additional insulators or special kinds of components there.

“How can I fix this?” she says under her breath. “I don’t have any components, and the only tool I have is the army knife setting in my omnitool.” She considers her options for a moment before scanning Jaal’s visor. “Any results? Any way that I could integrate the software into his technology?”

“In ten minutes, no, Pathfinder,” SAM says. “We do not have enough data to accurately transfer every data point into angaran hardware. Given an angaran program, I could do my best to import the details and convert from Milky Way programming styles to that of the angara, but that is an action you will have to take either on my port aboard the Tempest or on the Hyperion.” SAM pauses for a millisecond before he tacks on, “It would be more convenient to import a test program directly at the node aboard the Hyperion.”

And the Hyperion seems like light-years away from this tiny room on Voeld.

Against her hands, Jaal slowly begins to stir. He raises his head and blinks at Ryder. “What’s going on?” he asks. His gaze drifts Ryder’s face to the visor in Ryder’s palm. His eyes widen and he scrambles to get up. With one hand, he paws at his face where the visor used to be and says, “What are you doing with that? You could have broken something inside.”

“Well, there wouldn’t be much to break if it completely froze over,” Ryder grumbles. She shows up the still-damp patch on her suit where she rubbed off the frost and explains,  _ “Ishanj.  _ Ice. Well, frost but I’m assuming you know what I mean.”

“The translator,” Jaal breathes out. “I can’t understand you anymore. And ice? My visor isn’t supposed to freeze over, but could the… Here, let me have a look at it.”

Ryder passes the visor over to Jaal who inspects the small metal box attached to the side of the visor where he hooked up the translator. He clicks his tongue with disapproval when he sees the streaks along the side of the metal and says, “The temperatures must have had something to do with the malfunction. This is problematic because I have integrated most of my suit systems with the Tempest’s and the Initiative’s network. If this does not work, then some of my other suit functions may not work.” He glances up at Ryder and asks, “I don’t remember much of what happened. Could you tell me what happened?”

_ “Nai drauas ba savosas,” _ Ryder says painfully. “Do you know how hard it was for me to hear you cut out? And then for SAM to tell me that your suit was breaking down because of this?  _ Ta’pasovas nai enapan em nai eva’paara.  _ I couldn’t hear you.” She reaches out for the visor and shakes it at Jaal. “I was so scared,” she whispers.  _ “Roeva pa’as. _ I was so scared for you.”

Understanding dawns on Jaal’s face slowly and painfully, and he pulls Ryder into a hug. He holds her tight in his arms as he breathes out, “Then you found me. You found me in the snow and dragged me back even though I am twice your size and though you had no reason to.”

Ryder rears back. “No reason to?” she repeats. “What do you mean? I had every reason to!” She’s speaking too quickly for Jaal to accurately pick it up, so she sucks in a long breath before she slowly says, “You are important. I would have saved you over and over if I had to. I won’t let you die.  _ Nai pesha drauas.” _

“My apologies,” Jaal breathes. “I did not mean to offend. This means a great deal to me, Ryder. Thank you.”

Ryder huffs out a laugh, and her shoulders sink with pure relief. “That’s good,” she says. “Now, I’m going to pass out soon according to my clock, so don’t panic.  _ Sovoa. _ Lights out for me.” 

“What?!” Jaal says. The sides of his face flare out with sheer panic as he hurries to ease Ryder into a more comfortable position, but the cot is so small that Ryder can only fit if she sits on top of Jaal. “What happened? Did something else happen while I was out?”

Ryder waves him off. “No, I’ll be fine,” she says. She lifts her arm and finds that it’s so much harder to move now. Exhaustion sets in her limbs and seeps into her bones, but with her last scrap of energy, Ryder opens up her interface on her omnitool. “I’m switching Liam and Jaal out for Cora and Peebee. Send them back to the Tempest while Cora and Peebee make their way down here. They’ve been out here on this goddamn frozen wasteland of a planet for too long. Let them get warmed up back aboard while I move ahead with Cora and Peebee.”

“Understood, Pathfinder,” SAM says.

“No,” Jaal blurts out. His gaze flicks between Ryder and her omnitool as he hurries to say, “I did not understand all of it, but no, don’t send me back to the Tempest. I can stay, I can survive.” He thumps his own chest. “Angara are built to survive, to endure. I can survive here longer than you, and I can get my suit fixed here. You need me to negotiate too. Take me with you, Ryder.  _ Please.” _

The last word is stilted enough to let Ryder know that he says the word in English. Ryder sighs and dips her head closer in towards Jaal. “I don’t want to risk you though,” she confesses. “It’s too cold here for either of us.”

Jaal doesn’t even register the words, but he lifts up Ryder’s chin and says softly, “If you are staying here on Voeld, then so do I.” His eyes move over to the omnitool still glowing a bright orange, and he asks, “SAM, please keep me here on Voeld.”

“Final message, Pathfinder?” SAM asks.

Ryder leans against Jaal, too tired to prop herself up. The world looks too fuzzy and starts spinning around the edges. “Fine,” she relents. “Send Liam back and switch him out for Cora. I want her here on the double. We start towards the next station as soon as she gets here. Wake me up when she does.”

She can’t even hear a reply as she drifts off into sweet, blissful unconsciousness. Black overtakes her vision, and her limbs go slack as she falls into a deep sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> translations:  
>  **Jaal nai draun ba savosa. Kosa taan set bosavanj, shaas.** — "Jaal isn’t dead but he’s unconscious. We need a room to help him, please." (based off of previously established words, canon words, and a good dash of nonsense letters)  
>  **ishanj** — "ice" (based off of “anj” meaning anchor, implying that ice anchors down to what it freezes to)  
>  **Nai drauas ba savosas** — "You didn’t die, but you fell unconscious."  
>  **Ta’pasovas nai enapan em nai eva’paara.** — "Your device wasn’t working and I couldn’t hear you." (based off of previously established vocabulary)  
>  **Roeva pa’as** — "I was scared" (based off of “roekaar” which i interpreted to mean smth like “arbiters of fear” or smth like that)  
>  **Nai pesha drauas** — "I will not let you die."


	12. repairs

Ryder dreams about her family.

In that brief space between consciousness and dreams, she finds herself settling back into  _ Sara. _ Just normal, regular Sara who never had to be the Pathfinder. The kind of Sara that died on Habitat 7 among the lightning strikes and softly-glowing anemone plants vibrating with electricity and life. The kind of Sara she used to be before she dove into a dreamless frozen sleep and emerged back out into a new galaxy. 

So, in this dream, she is Sara again. Not Ryder, not Pathfinder. Just Sara.

They’re in Yellowstone. The national park looks nicer on the holo-pads. At least in the pictures and virtual recreations of the park, the stabilizers weren’t there. But now, as she stands on the wide, grassy fields, she sees spires rise up from the ground and dig deep into the earth to stabilize the tectonic movement of the land that they stand on right now.

Scott points at them and complains, “Why doesn’t anyone ever include those big, ugly metal things in the pictures? And why would anyone keep them here? They’re not pretty at all.” 

Their mother bends down to wrap her arms around their shoulders and points out one particularly large spire. “Look at those,” she says softly. “They’re a marvel of human engineering. We’re standing in the caldera of one of Earth’s greatest volcanoes. It erupted once 2.1 million years ago, one 1.3 million years ago, and one around 660,000 years ago. It’s not likely to erupt, but now, we’ve got stabilizers in the ground to monitor tectonic movement and alleviate any danger that we might come across. They have them in the Pacific Northwest too, near the Cascadia subduction zone.” 

She gets back up on her feet and stretches. “No one can really stop the earth from moving,” she tells them. “But we can keep off the danger for as long as we can, save as many people as we can, and enjoy our lives as most as we can with technology.”

“The wonders of science,” their father chimes in.

Sara looks up at her father and realizes that he’s younger now. The stress lines haven’t quite made it all the way across his forehead in this memory, and for once in her memory, he’s actually  _ here _ instead of being halfway across the galaxy. Sara hasn’t seen her father in so long that it almost feels strange to be near him again. Sara feels more comfortable with her turian neighbour’s father rather than her own father, and that is the irony of the century.

“Science this, science that,” Scott mutters. He looks up and gives Sara a sour look, and she makes the same face back at him. “You and Mom are always going on about it.”

Their father shakes his head disapprovingly and says in a stern voice, “They advance our world, Scott. Don’t forget, you’ve got your mother’s research in your head. Same for you, Sara.”

“Alex,” her mother sharply says.

Dad wrinkles his nose and says, “What? It’s true, Ellen.”

Mom gives Dad the dirtiest look Sara’s seen this entire day as she snaps, “But you don’t need to say it like that.”

“Sorry,” Dad mutters, sufficiently cowed by their mother. 

_ You should be, _ Sara wordlessly thinks. The space between them, her, and Scott are all so different and warped. Like she thought earlier, Sara decides that she vastly prefers hanging out with her turian neighbour and his dad. Even though his dad talks a lot about the war, his dad also makes surprisingly good levo food like sandwiches and cracks jokes. Her dad does neither, but he does talk about war and science with an unerring frequency.

Yellowstone is still beautiful despite the tectonic stabilizers. The sky is a clear, vivid blue that can’t even compare to the Citadel’s artificially colored sky. The Citadel always alternates between the skies of different home planets for the different species, and the days for Earth are few and far in between compared to Thessia or Palaven. But even then, the blue skies could never compare to  _ this. _

“Amazing, isn’t it?” her father says. Sara looks up at her father who also looks up at the sky. He shoves his hands in his pockets and smiles wistfully. “You’ve never seen Earth’s skies like this, right? You’ve been in the cities, but the skies there are greyer and dirtier than this. They’re still working on the entire atmosphere thing here, but it’s beautiful.”

“Wait, the sky can be bluer than  _ this?” _ Sara gasps.

He nods and points to the stabilizers. “But we’re working on it,” he says. “One day, I’ll show you a bluer sky than this. All it takes is a little bit of science.” He turns to her with the most genuine smile that Sara’s ever seen on him.

It suits him. She likes seeing her dad like this. Happy. She’s so used to seeing him be angry and tense and stressed and loud. But here, he’s happy. Sara reaches out to hold her dad’s hand, and he seems surprised by the gesture. His smile turns softer along the edges, and he squeezes her hand back.

“I miss you, Dad,” Sara quietly whispers.

Her voice sounds older than it’s ever been, and she looks down at her hand again. It looks so strange. It’s too small than what she remembers, and she chokes on the sudden realization that she is  _ older. _ Six hundred years and more. And she looks up at her father, and now, she sees him slowly age in front of her very eyes. The darkness of his hair lightens with age, and the lines around his face deepen. Sara knows that it’s from years of frowning rather than years of smiling. But  _ oh, _ he is smiling now, and she looks back at her mother and her brother. 

Her mother is gone, nowhere to be seen, and in the place where she used to be, there is only grass and wildflowers. Her brother is taller and older as well, and his shoulders slope as if he was bearing a heavy burden. He looks up at her, and Sara can see a scar running down his forehead and down the side of his cheek. The scar he got from when they first landed in Andromeda.

Sara turns to her father again, and he squeezes her hand once more. “You’re doing so well,” he tells her quietly. “I promised you that I would show you a bluer sky than this, but it looks like you’re building your own blue skies now. You’re doing wonderfully, Sara, and I am  _ proud _ to be your father.”

His voice cracks on the last sentence, and Sara tackles him into a hug before she wakes up, before he leaves her again, before it’s too late. “I miss you,” she sobs. “I miss you and Scott and Mom, and I just miss everyone. I’m so lost, Dad. I’m so  _ lost, _ I don’t know what I’m doing, I don’t  _ know.” _

“But you’re doing it,” her father whispers. “And we’ll be watching over you. I believe in you, Sara. We all do. We always have.”

“I don’t want to be alone,” Sara chokes out.

She feels cold, and she tries to reach out for her father. She curls her arms in tighter, and for some reason, she can feel the warmth. “I don’t want to be alone,” she repeats again, as if that would make her father come back. It’s so painfully true for Sara, and she hates admitting it. But it’s true.

“You’re not alone,” a voice rumbles out. Sara can feel the sound vibrate out from whatever she’s curled around. The voice is also strangely accented, and the sound stretches strangely around the syllables.

“What?” Sara blearily asks.

“You’re not alone, Ryder,” the voice repeats. “Are you okay?  _ Skutt, _ I can barely remember how to speak in her language, much less mine.”

“Would you like me to translate for you, Jaal Ama Darav?” a tinny voice asks. 

Oh. That’s… That’s SAM. Yes, that’s SAM. 

She’s not Sara anymore but Ryder, the Pathfinder, instead. Ryder blinks a few times before she looks up and focuses on Jaal’s face. Worry etches its way across his face so deeply that it startles her, and she pats his face without even thinking. “You’re frowning,” she manages to say. “Stop that.” She’s had enough of frowning people for one night.

“Stop what?” Jaal asks. He looks bemused which shakes the frown from his face before he shifts Ryder’s position. 

She looks around them and notices that they’re both on the bed now. Jaal has his legs propped and bent in a way so that there’s enough space for Ryder, but there’s not quite enough room for Ryder to sit without sitting on at least half of Jaal’s lap. The small stand beside them has Jaal’s visor and the dismantled translator on it, but Ryder’s helmet is also carefully propped up on it while Jaal’s helmet is on the floor. Currently, she’s cradled in Jaal’s arms, and his rofjinn is tucked around her for extra warmth.

“You scared me,” Jaal sighs. “You simply fell silent and then rolled over, completely unresponsive. If it wasn’t for SAM, I would have thought you were dead. And in your sleep, towards the end, you were… You were crying. A bad dream, I think, but I couldn’t get you to wake up until now.”

“Jaal Ama Darav was immensely distressed, Pathfinder,” SAM adds. “The language barrier made it even more difficult for him. A combination of miscommunication and alarm. Your body vitals appear to be stable, Pathfinder. Permission to adjust body levels?”

“Go right ahead, SAM,” Ryder says wearily. She tries to get off of Jaal, but her body feels so heavy that she ends up slumping against him. Jaal is exceptionally accommodating though and tries to reposition her so that she’s more comfortable. She glances up at Jaal and in the barest of breaths, she says, “And it wasn’t a bad dream. I just… I dreamed about an old memory. A really old one.”

Jaal ticks a strand of Ryder’s hair behind her ear and murmurs, “You do not have to tell me if you do not want to.”

“Maybe… Maybe I’ll tell you later,” Ryder says. Half of her is scared that letting go of this memory and talking about it will somehow make it less real than it felt. The other half of her just wants to tell Jaal, but for now, fear wins out. “How’s the work going?” she asks SAM. It’s such a measly effort to change the subject, but it works.

“Adjusting body levels now,” SAM says. “Activating hypothalamus, increasing oxytocin to moderate body temperatures, regulating corticotropin in conjunction with the pituitary gland and adrenal gland, adjusting levels of antidiuretic hormone, and maintaining homeostasis.”

“I understood none of that, but I’m taking it as a good sign,” Ryder laughs softly. “I appreciate it though. I really do.” She tips her head up to look at Jaal who’s looking at her with such an intense look. She wrinkles her nose and asks, “What’s wrong?”

SAM repeats the phrase in Shelesh, and Jaal exhales shakily. “What’s wrong, you ask?” he repeats. “I thought you  _ died, _ Ryder. I was  _ terrified. _ I had no idea what was going on, and the translator only goes one way now, and there was nothing I could do to resuscitate you or bring you back to consciousness.” He leans his forehead against the top of her head and whispers, “The thought of you sacrificing your wellbeing for my life was… Terrifying. Horrifying. It is a unique agony that I would never like to experience again.”

“Oh, Jaal,” Ryder breathes out. She cups her hand on his cheek. She doesn’t know why; it just seems appropriate considering that he seems to rely on touch for comfort. Her hypothesis is proven right when he veritably melts against her touch and bends down to hug her. His touch is careful and controlled — he’s always been careful with her after that trust fall incident — but she can feel the way that his hands shake. “I’m so sorry,” she says. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I just… Passed out before I could explain the whole thing to you.”

SAM parrots the words back, and Ryder has to resist the urge to snicker. Something about SAM’s modulated voice filling the space between them seems so funny, but she doesn’t dare laugh. She doesn’t want Jaal to think that she’s laughing at him rather than at something else. 

Jaal sniffles a little bit, and Ryder whispers, “Oh  _ no, _ don’t cry, Jaal.” She rubs soothing circles on Jaal’s back and says, “Hey there, big guy, look. I’m still alive, and I didn’t die. Listen, I’m too stubborn to die.”

There’s a pause as SAM translates for Jaal, and Ryder’s rewarded with a soft chuckle. “That you are,” he agrees. “That you are. More stubborn than an adhi and denser than cavern rock.”

“Hey now,” Ryder grouses. “I just saved your life. Hold off on the insults for a day or two.”

Jaal laughs again at that, and Ryder leans back against Jaal. Now that she’s in close proximity to Jaal, she notices just how  _ big _ he is. Oh, she always knew that he was tall. He towers over her even when they’re both sitting down. But now, she notices the broadness of his shoulders and the sheer strength in his arms and thighs from her perch on his lap. She flushes at the thought of it and tries to tell herself that all angara are probably like this. They could all probably bench-press her without even breaking a sweat. 

That thought does not help at all, and Ryder’s blush deepens.

Could Jaal bench-press her? Probably. Does she like the concept of it? Of course, but she’s going to stop thinking about it right now.

Jaal leans over to pluck the broken translator from the small table. Ryder shifts a little towards the left to allow him more room, but he pushes her back to her original spot with an absent huff of breath. He squints at the translator before he mumbles, “I could install it back onto my visor if I had a couple of wires, a transistor, and better insulation.” He glances at Ryder and says, “I’d probably be able to fix both the translator and my suit in a day. Give me another day, and I can try fixing the suit integration with Initiative networks. I know we’re in a rush, but can you give me at least that?”

“I’d give you about anything at this point,” Ryder absently mumbles. SAM starts to translate, but she cuts him off and snaps, “Not that. Don’t translate that. Yes. Yes. Jaal knows that word already. Yes. Time. Yes.”

Jaal gives her an easy smile, and it makes Ryder blink. His eyes look even brighter in the dim light, and she swears that she could find constellations in his irises alone. She looks away with red cheeks, and she slowly starts to move off the cot. It’s easier to move now, and she manages to stand by herself. Jaal catches her hand and keeps her steady though. She looks back at Jaal when he holds her hand, and he offers her a soft squeeze. She laughs and squeezes back before she bends down to grab Jaal’s helmet. She scoots her own helmet aside and manages to balance both helmets on the small stand.

“Now, let’s get to work,” she sighs. “SAM, what’s the ETA on Cora’s arrival? Also, how long have I been out?”

“You were unconscious for several hours, Pathfinder,” SAM replies. “Cora Harper requires an additional three hours before she arrives. Currently, she is stuck in the previous station due to worsening storms. That delay may be stretched up to five or six hours.”

“Damn,” Ryder swears. “Poor Cora. It’s cold as balls out here too. Keep tabs on Cora’s health. I want updates from her every hour on her location and the integrity of her suit. I’m not risking another crewmate again. I’m also switching out crew members to keep them all healthy.”

“What about your own health, Pathfinder?” SAM asks. His tones are modulated to be even, but the question and SAM’s inflection of it sound strange. Peculiar, even. If SAM was human, Ryder would call it worry, but SAM isn’t human. But maybe he can still feel. Ryder likes the thought of that. She only hopes that SAM doesn’t pick up her own weird mannerisms. That would be a bit strange, but she likes the thought of SAM learning to be human. It’s almost endearing, but Ryder’s shaken out of her thoughts when SAM repeats, “Pathfinder, what about your own health?” 

The bastard adds it in Shelesh for Jaal’s benefit as well, and suddenly, Jaal turns his intense gaze onto Ryder. “What about your health?” he repeats.

Ryder groans before she runs a hand through her hair. “I’m the Pathfinder,” she finally says. “I stay on ground. Frankly, I couldn’t give a damn if I freeze or not. I’ll do what it takes to get the mission done, but I won’t risk my friends to do so. Never that.” She levels her gaze at Jaal and quietly says, “I saw my crewmates die on Habitat 7. I’m not letting that happen again.”

A moment of silence passes before SAM translates it into Shelesh, but SAM’s voice runs through the words with a slower pace. Almost with hesitation. Jaal’s face twists, but Ryder turns away. “That’s that, and I’m not changing my mind,” she says quietly. “We move on and get the mission done, but we’re not losing anyone. I stay on Voeld, no matter what, until this is settled. Ping me on the comm line or via the direct line on my omnitool when you’re done, Jaal.”

She bends down to put on her thicker layer of outer armor, and she keeps her back to Jaal as she straps on her boots. 

“Let me go with you,” Jaal softly says. 

Ryder glances back at Jaal and pauses. Her armor is half-on, but she straightens up. Jaal reaches over for their helmets and stands up. “Let me go with you,” he repeats. “We can repair the translator together. Like we did in Aya. We can do it together.”

Ryder bites her lip. Jaal sets the helmets back down on the stand, but he doesn’t get his own balanced right. His helmet crashes to the ground, and he winces. But still, he extends his hand out to Ryder. 

“What about materials?” Ryder finally says. SAM parrots back the question for Jaal.

Jaal’s mouth splits into a wide grin. He knows that she’ll stay now. He gestures over to the door and says, “I’ve already requested the proper supplies. A scout agreed to go find them for me, and she should be back soon. You can rest here.”

“Fine,” Ryder relents. She tromps back over to the side of the cot, and Jaal helps her out of her winter armor again. He’s delicate with her, carefully managing the zippers with less grace but with equal effort. Ryder smiles and shows him how the zippers work and how the latches seal her inside her suit. They don’t need words for this; they just work together in unison and in a comfortable kind of quiet.

Jaal makes room for her on the cot, and Ryder curls up beside him. They sit there like that, and Ryder almost falls asleep. However, a knock on the door jolts her out of her sleepy state. Jaal gets up to answer, and like he said, there’s an angaran scout at the door with a box of supplies and tools. 

The two soon get to work. Jaal works on his suit and the visor while Ryder checks up on the integration with the Initiative network. With SAM and her omnitool, she manages to open up a direct line back to the Tempest. The signal is spotty at best, and she’s fairly sure that Gil’s voice picks up sometimes, but it works. Cora’s position on the map blips every hour as promised, and Ryder takes comfort in that. Their combined efforts along with SAM and the few texts that Gil can send through diminish the estimated work time by half. More than half, Ryder suspects, but Jaal won’t clarify. His suit is functional again, but they have to reduce some of the dependencies it had on the Initiative networks. Jaal just has to plug his outernet connections into the servers the Resistance has on Voeld though, so it isn’t a huge loss.

Jaal fiddles around with the translator a little more after they restore his suit back to functional use. The translator fizzles and sparks before it suddenly whirs and comes back to life. “Did that work?” Jaal muses as he scratches his head. “Not sure if it did.”

“Well, can you understand me?” Ryder tries.

Judging from Jaal’s smile, it did. “Good,” he sighs. “Translation issues are always so frustrating. I would rather fight a sea of kett than go through an issue like this again. Once we get off Voeld, I am spending all of my time developing a more compatible program for angaran tech.”

Ryder leans against Jaal and exhales out. He’s warm, and his rofjinn is still wrapped around Ryder’s shoulders. He studies her face before he reaches out to tuck the rofjinn in more carefully. “I will have to adjust the shoulders,” he muses. “Reduce the length of the fabric to accommodate your height. You are so  _ small, _ Ryder.”

“No, you’re just abnormally tall,” Ryder huffs out. “And what are you talking about?”

“Nothing,” Jaal says. Ryder flicks his shoulder and gives him a mock frown, but Jaal repeats, “Nothing at all.”

It’s a peaceful moment, but Ryder knows that it can’t last. And she’s right. The storm dies down, and with it, Ryder realizes that she has to move on with the mission. Cora arrives a few minutes afterwards in a small Resistance pod, and Ryder reluctantly gets up from the cot.

“Another moment,” Jaal asks. “We can stay for one moment more.” Ryder looks back at him, nestled in the blankets. His tools are spread out across his lap, and there’s a streak of motor oil on his face that he’s forgotten about. 

It’s endearing in every way, but Ryder slowly slips the rofjinn off her shoulders. She settles it back around Jaal’s shoulders and murmurs, “Duty calls.”

“And we must answer,” Jaal sighs. 

He starts cleaning up his tools and components, and Ryder tries to help as best as she can. After that, Jaal helps Ryder put on her armor. Now, it’s Ryder’s turn to learn how Jaal’s armor works, and she learns how the angara use different methods of keeping the armor latched and sealed properly. She raps her knuckles against his breastplate and laughs as he tells her a story about how he used to steal one of his older brother’s armor and pretend to wear it as a child. She trades him that story for one about how Scott “borrowed” their father’s armor as a Halloween costume and how he tripped down the stairs before he could even make it out to the celebrations.

They meet Cora and call down the Nomad to take an alternate route than the one they first tried.. However, Ryder gets an earful from her as they wait. “And you didn’t think that was a terrible idea?” Cora says archly. “You could have killed yourself out there.”

“But I didn’t,” Ryder retorts. “And Jaal was dying.”

“But you’re our Pathfinder,” Cora says. Ryder can’t see her expression as clearly through the tinted helmet, but Cora’s voice shakes over the comm line. “We lost one Pathfinder already. We don’t need to lose another one. We  _ can’t _ lose another one. You keep going on about how you won’t risk your team, but have you ever thought about how we would never risk you?”

Ryder looks away from Cora, but Cora grasps her by the shoulders. “Please,” she says. Her voice cracks. “I don’t want to lose you, okay? We’ve lost one Ryder already. I’d rather have you alive than die by your own heroics.”

“Will do,” Ryder promises. 

It seems like she has more in common with her father than she originally thought. She thinks about Yellowstone as she gazes out at the vast mountains and craggy icebergs of Voeld. She keeps thinking about that brilliant blue when she climbs into the driver’s seat of the Nomad, and she keeps her eyes trained ahead when she drives.

They plunge through the snow and make it farther up ahead before they finally have to ditch the Nomad. Then, they scale the mountain on foot. The missing scouts are huddled around the northernmost heating lamp, and Ryder sends a message back to Commander Do Xeel with a sigh of relief. However, the news that they tell her is alarming.

Half of the excursion group that went missing were captured and sent to a holding site for extraction. Jaal becomes incandescent with fury when he hears about it. Ryder lays a hand on his shoulder and says, “We’ll track them down.”

“Locking on the objective,” Cora says. She taps Ryder’s shoulder and shows her the map. “Looks like they’re on some sort of base, translator says that they’re calling it the Northern Holding Site.”

“Oh, that doesn’t look good,” Ryder mutters. Judging from the position on the map, it looks like an area where the heating lamps are bound to be sparse. “We better be careful. The heating doesn’t look promising there.”

Cora takes charge of navigation, and with Jaal’s Resistance data on the area, they’re able to triangulate the exact location of the base. Ryder keeps an eye on their vital signs and their suit viabilities as well as any nearby dangers. SAM keeps a running tally in the corner of her visual interface loaded on her helmet, and with each blip, they get closer and closer to their mission objective.

And then they’re there.

Cora and Ryder exchange looks just before they dive into the fray and trigger the battle. Cora lifts one hand up, crackling with biotic energy, and that instantly grabs Jaal’s attention. “We’ve never gone into battle with Jaal, have we?” Cora muses. “Can you handle biotic warfare?”

“I would welcome the opportunity to try,” Jaal evenly answers. 

“We don’t have much room for failure,” Ryder sighs. “Maybe we should have ran through some additional combat simulations or found some sort of training arena on Aya before we decided to go hustling off into the universe.”

“You know, I wasn’t really expecting to encounter a lot of combat, but then again, the kett are crawling all over this cluster,” Cora says. Her biotics snap and fizzle around her until they lie down in a dull thrum that Ryder can feel in her teeth. “Are we going in for the usual style? Does Jaal know about that?”

“Vetra and Liam made him dossiers for combat,” Ryder answers. She swivels around to Jaal and asks, “And you have a sniper rifle, yeah?”

“A modified Lanat, yes,” Jaal says. He leans back in his crouching position, and Ryder winces when she sees the way his legs flex. Rationally, she knows that it’s just the way his bones and legs are shaped. Same with quarians and turians and other aliens. Still, Ryder feels like her own knees would pop out if she tried. Jaal clears his throat and says, “Cora has a shotgun and you have an assault rifle. Close combat styles, yes?”

“I sure do love charging into my enemies, so yes,” Ryder says cheekily. She pats her omnitool and continues, “I guess Liam didn’t put it down, but I prefer using a blade while I still have the momentum of my charge. I also have another blade equipped on my other wrist for optimal punching.”

“Oh,” Jaal says. There’s a slight pause before he coughs and says, “Vetra mentioned that your fighting style was, ah—“

“A liability,” Cora cuts in. Ryder makes a disgusted noise, but Cora resolutely ignores it. Instead, she says, “None of us know why she likes it. Liam says that she likes bringing knives to a gunfight. We can’t change her mind on it either.”

“Hey now, I know when to use a gun and when to not use a gun,” Ryder complains.

“And what about that time you crashed directly into a challyrion, tried to stab it, and broke your own blade instead?” Cora dryly asks. She shakes her head and gestures over to Jaal. “Here, let’s do this. Ryder takes closest combat, and I’ll be close behind her. You take a sniper’s perch somewhere and take out the biggest issues. Let us know if there’s some other danger coming up ahead. If you need something done quick, alert Ryder since she’s got a faster biotic charge than me.” 

“I also have intel that there are consoles by the cages with the angara in them,” Jaal says intently. “I do not know if you have the capabilities of disabling them, but I can do it if I have the time.”

“Then a slight adjustment to the plan,” Ryder says with a sobering expression. “Cora and I will clear out the kett inside and make a path for you to get to the consoles. I’ll watch your six while Cora keeps an eye on the outer perimeter. If reinforcements come, Cora and I will draw them out while you finish the console work. Sound good?”

Both of them nod, and Ryder exhales. It’s show time.


	13. nova

When Ryder makes the first charge forward, she thinks that combat is a godless job. There is no space for anything else other than the sheer momentum of her skill. No prayers, only silence. And the brief second of silence before the roaring of the gunfire and the sizzle of biotics has no other space for anyone or anything else other than that. Herself, distilled down to the purest drop. Then, for the next second, the charge and the flicker of her energy are the only sounds that first accompany her into the great battle. Then, the world flickers and that’s when Ryder sets the world on fire.

This is how it always has been.

Her first sparring match at Grissom Academy was brutal. Ryder — she was Sara then — lost control over her biotics and watched as the world around her burst into brilliant blue and purple. The person she was supposed to spar with was flung back, and none of her teachers could walk through the maelstrom of energy that radiated from her skin. The only person to make it through was her brother; he calmed her down and accompanied her back home to her mother. Her implant was slightly adjusted, and then, she was placed in a different division of classes away from her brother. They called her a vanguard instead of a regular adept.

Now, here she is, in a different galaxy. However, the shades of blue and purple that ripple out from her body are the same as they were in the Milky Way. Time seems to slow down when she’s still above in the air, and Ryder raises her blade down to stab downward with too many newtons worth of force. The snow and ice are quickly spattered with kett blood, and Ryder raises her head, searching for her next target.

She focuses in on the next one and dodges a few bullets and punches thrown her way. She slams one kett against the bars of the cages and braces against his body to give her enough momentum to whirl around and lash out with her other blade attached to her left arm. Then, she hauls up the kett and uses him as a shield when another kett comes after her with his own blade. The knife sinks in with a wet squelch, and Ryder grimaces. She shoves against the now-dead kett and tackles the kett. She fires up her own biotics to slam him against a huge slab of ice. She hears the crack and crunch of his bones and drops his dead body on the ice.  

Her body is still alive with her biotics, and when she glances back, she can see the flashes of biotic energy going up across the battlefield. Cora is a strong biotic soldier in her own right, and although the frequency and color of her energy is different than Ryder’s, it’s still in tune with the flow of battle. Ryder crouches down and tenses her legs before she springs up and charges into the next kett on her list of targets.

She can hear the angara cheering from the cages as one by one, the kett guards fall over. Ryder opens up the comm line and pants out, “Jaal! Consoles, now!”

“Understood,” Jaal radios back. Ryder doesn’t dare turn around and reveal where his sniper’s perch is hidden, but she does try to circle back near the place where they entered. A couple of kett try to block her path, but Ryder sheathes her blades and brings her assault rifle out. She peppers several bullets into their bodies before she pops the heat sink and reloads.

Jaal hurries up and adds a few bodies to their kill count with his sniper rifle. He nods at her, and Ryder signals to him. He shoulders his sniper rifle and sprints towards the consoles, and Ryder keeps an eye on him. When a few kett decide to chase after him, Ryder is already charging towards them with fire and fury roiling off of her skin in brilliant blue.

She tackles the closest kett to Jaal and tears him away with a visceral snarl bubbling out of her throat. Ryder can hear Jaal’s distant gasp — dammit, she forgot to close the comm line — but she doesn’t hesitate as she throws a ball of biotic energy at another kett. She activates an incinerating blast from her omnitool on the other kett and shoots the rest with her assault rifle. She glances back to check on Jaal and the consoles, but he’s just standing there, gaping at her.

“What are you doing?” she snaps. Her tone is harsher than she intends it to be, so she softens her voice and says, “Get to work on the consoles before they send in reinforcements!”

Jaal hastily nods and gets to work on the consoles. Ryder grits her teeth and checks over on Cora. “How are things going?” she says via the comm line.

She can hear Cora’s heaving breaths on the other side, but Cora manages to say, “Eliminated. But something seems wrong on my map. Something on the horizon’s blipping on my interface.”

Ryder checks her own visual interface and swears. Cora’s right; there’s a small red dot that’s progressively making its way closer and closer on the map. She’s been too consumed by the demands of battle to even notice. “An airship is making its way over to this location,” SAM says. “The estimated arrival time is within five minutes. Perhaps less, depending on the direction of the wind and the remaining fuel in the airship.”

“I have two cages unlocked and the third halfway done,” Jaal says. When Ryder looks over, the imprisoned angara are helping each other and checking over the others.

Ryder sprints over to the last console and activates her scanner. “SAM, can you do anything about this?” she asks.

SAM processes the data with two small clicks and says, “Please lay your hand over the console and activate your secondary interface in your omnitool, Pathfinder.” Ryder complies, and SAM gets to work on the console. She marvels at the sheer speed that he processes it with, and she silently mouths out a small thanks to her father for SAM.

The bars unlock with several clicks, and the angaran prisoners shakily climb out of the cage. The other angaran prisoners help them out, and they say their thanks to Ryder. However, when Cora tries to talk to them, they tilt their heads with confusion and flex the folds of skin along the sides of their faces. They don't have the translator programs yet.

“I’m Niilj. We can help you with the kett reinforcements,” one of the angara says. He glances over at Jaal and asks, “Can they understand us? Can you let them know what we’re saying?”

“They can understand you, but it doesn’t go the other way around yet,” Jaal answers. He gestures to his visor and says, “We’re still working on a program to disseminate out towards other Resistance clusters. But yes, we’d appreciate the help.”

“They’re coming!” Ryder hears a voice cry out. She jerks her head over towards the sound and sees a large airship descend towards them. Numerous kett jump out and immediately surge towards them with loud war cries. The sound of gunfire fills Ryder’s ears again, and she has to dive behind a few containers before her shields blow out.

She unsheathes both knives and examines them. They’re still spattered with kett blood, so she wipes them once on the packed snow before she leaps out with blazing glory. Her biotics fill the air with a distinctive scent — almost like ozone, she thinks — and it sizzles against the electric fields of all the other angara. When she brushes against an angaran electric field, her biotics bloom with different colors just like they did with Jaal on Aya. She can’t waste too much time on that thought though. She has to focus on combat, and her body moves through the motions almost automatically.

Charge, stab, shoot, incinerate. Rinse and repeat. Those are the only thoughts truly threading through Ryder’s mind as she hacks and shoots her way through the new troops. It’s not enough though. Soon, she’s surrounded by a group of kett. She’s flanked on all sides, and there’s no clear avenue for her to charge out of. Even when she activates her jump jets and tries to charge out, she’s evaded and surrounded again.

“Ryder!” Jaal cries out. She can hear his voice crack on the last syllable with pure panic, and the comm line crackles with the sheer volume of his voice. She cranes her head around, trying to find him, but she only sees the helmets of the kett, looming over her.

Her lips twist into a facsimile of a smile, and she bares her teeth at them. Not that they can see it well through the frost-covered paneling of her helmet, but the meaning of the gesture is what matters. “It’s show-time, bastards,” she spits out at the kett. “Time to light them up.”

The thin layer of residual biotic energy on her skin explodes outward into a volatile and brilliant nova of energy. The energy flares out of her like some sort of unholy corona of blue and purple near the center where she’s locate. The radius is just large enough to pick up on the other wavelengths of energy in the air, so the bare edges of her nova are colored in different hues. The explosion ravages through the kett, and they fall to the snow and ice, dead and burned with Ryder’s style of fire.

Ryder pants from the exertion that the nova took out of her. Her senses feel burned out, and her energy is harder to reach over. Jaal hurries over to her and supports her. Ryder glances around and sees that most of the kett have been dealt with. Cora sends one final biotic blast racing towards the stragglers that are attempting to escape before sprinting towards them and finishing them off with her shotgun. Ryder allows herself to sag against Jaal only when the last kett falls.

“That was… Breathtaking,” Jaal whispers to her on a private comm line.

Ryder tries to say something back, but she only managed to wheeze out a few short breaths. She coughs twice before she says, “Thanks. Those are biotics in combat instead of the few wispy things I showed you on Aya.”

“Breathtaking,” Jaal repeats. “Beautiful, even.”

Ryder waves him off and snorts, “You get used to it.” She stumbles towards Niilj and the others. Cora’s looking through some of the containers nearby the cages. When Ryder gets close, she holds up a datapad. Without even looking at it, Ryder groans, “There's more, isn’t there?”

Niilj taps his boot against the packed snow to gain Ryder’s attention and says, “Jaal said that you could understand me, so here goes. We’re going to head back to base, but there’s this drive that contains vital data from the kett network. Can you take it to Techiix? Give it to an angara named Buxil. What are you called?”

“Pathfinder Ryder,” Ryder tells him.

A slow smile spreads over Niilj’s face as he tosses the drive over to Ryder. “Then, thank you, Padfindar,” he says. The foreign word is a bit stilted when he says it, but it’s enough for Ryder to understand. She dips her head and gives him an angaran now, and he responds with delighted surprise.

Ryder brings the drive over to Cora and squats by her side. “So, what did you find?” she asks.

“I can’t get my translator to work through all of it,” Cora sighs. She shakes the datapad and glares at it for good measure. She tosses it over to Ryder and says, “See if you can pick out anything more with SAM, but it looks like something about the kett network and their kind of shielding.”

Ryder takes it to squint at it. She doesn’t know enough about Tonaizhet, and the few words she and SAM know are from the brief words some kett soldiers spat at them before breathing out their dying breaths. She doesn’t know how Cora managed to gain something like shielding and network out of the datapad. Ryder never had the chance nor the opportunity to piece out the language like she did with Shelesh and Jaal, and that would apply to Cora as well. She has no idea how Cora did it. Half of Ryder wonders if there was any possibility of establishing some sort of peace with the kett, but when she looks back at the angaran prisoners shuffling their way back home, that half of her hardens with the realization. No, peace was never possible with people like the kett.

She scans it over to give SAM something to chew on though. Perhaps he can take apart the language and analyze it with the additional knowledge they gained from Shelesh. “You’re the best, Cora,” Ryder quietly sighs out. She tosses the datapad back on the container.

Cora picks up the datapad and peruses it once over before she breaks it over her knee. The datapad sputters out sparks of energy that collide against the residual biotic field around Cora’s body. “Thank you,” she says with a dip of her head. “I had my fair time trying to learn how to read and understand asari instead of relying on translators alone. There are some pretty strange dialects out there in the galaxy, and I learned how to work with what I’ve got while working with the other asari huntresses. Your Shelesh translator helps a lot.”

“Honestly, you could work with Jaal to help make that translator more accessible,” Ryder muses.

Cora laughs softly and pats Ryder’s shoulder. “I think you’d be better at that,” she says. “After all, _you’re_ the one who worked on that thing for all those months.”

Ryder blinks owlishly and jerks her thumb over to Jaal. “So did Jaal,”  she says.

Cora shrugs. “But it’s still partially your work.”

“I don’t know,” Ryder says as she instinctively reaches to scratch her neck. Her helmet and thick armor are the only things she reaches with her gloved hands. “But for what it’s worth,” she finally says. “I really do appreciate you and your work and your experience, Cora.”

“...Thank you, Sara,” Cora quietly whispers over the comm.

Jaal joins them beside the containers, and he looks through the wreckage to see if there’s anything salvageable. Suddenly, he asks, “Sara is your first name, correct?”

“Yeah, kinda like how Jaal is your first name,” Ryder says. Her lips twist a touch too ironically when she says her own first name again. It feels like it’s been ages since she’s ever used her first name. Cora’s the only one to use her first name, and Ryder suspects that it’s because her last name reminds Cora too much of the original Pathfinder, Alec Ryder, instead of her. Instead of Sara. A strange kind of bitterness spreads across Ryder’s sensations, and she shakes her head in a brief attempt to shake off the thought.

“Is there some sort of cultural significance to using first names?” Jaal asks next.

Ryder considers the question before she says, “For humans, it depends on the country and the planet. In the Alliance and in the Initiative, most people use last names for leaders and officers out of respect. So for me, it would be a title attached to a last name. For example, I’m Pathfinder Ryder. Pathfinder is my title and Ryder is my last name. For another human example, Commander Shepard is one of the greatest people in the Alliance and my personal hero. Same thing there: title is Commander and last name is Shepard. Close friends and family just use first names though.”

Jaal picks out a couple of transistors and adds them to his pouch hanging from his belt encircling his armor. He glances up at Ryder and wipes the frost from his helmet to get a better look at her. “And which do you prefer?” he presses.

Ryder sheepishly laughs and admits, “It’s been hard for me to command the same kind of respect as my dad. He was highly ranked — an N7 which is one of the most elite ranks in the Alliance — and he was smart and logical and brilliant.” She barks out a brief, bitter laugh. “He even invented SAM. It’s been hard for me to fill in for his job and meet the same standards as he did, so I’ve been trying to stick by my last name and title to scrape out at least some respect for myself. It’s hard to get the Initiative or the Nexus or anyone else from the Milky Way to do anything else for me otherwise. Besides, people want a Ryder to lead them. Not a Sara.”

Ryder knows that her voice has turned too bitter and sharp towards the end, so she abruptly turns away from Cora and Jaal. She makes her way towards an empty clearing on the snow to call down the Nomad, but Cora suddenly calls out, “I’m sorry, Sara.” She quiets before she says louder, “I’m sorry, Ryder.”

Ryder pauses. She can hear Cora breathing over the comm, and then, she hears Cora start running towards her. She glances back and sees Cora, bright-eyed despite the frost over her helmet. Her voice is thick when she says, “I apologize if there was any misunderstanding or accidental disrespect. It’s just… One minute, Alec was here, and one minute later, he wasn’t.”

“You don’t have to call me Ryder if you don’t want to,” Ryder says softly. She knows that she’s still on the main comm line, but she doesn’t care. “I know it reminds you of my father, and I know that I’m not my father by any means. But I’m trying my best, and that’s what matters in the end, doesn’t it? Don’t worry about it, Cora. I’m used to it. Keep on doing what makes you comfortable.”

She turns to walk away, but Jaal calls out, “By human standards, I am completely alright with you calling me by my first name. Because it is for close friends, yes? I am alright with that, and I am grateful that you consider me thus since you have been calling me by my first name. But I will respect your wishes in regards to your name and use Ryder or Pathfinder.”

“Oh, Jaal,” Ryder breathes out. “You don’t have to.”

“I want to if you want me to,” Jaal firmly says. Even in the distance, he looks so tall and big, but he bends his head in an angaran bow and presses his hand to his heart. “Pathfinder Ryder,” he finishes with his head still inclined towards her.

Ryder’s eyes water with some unidentifiable emotion, and she can’t seem to parse her cluttered thoughts and feelings. She hurries over to Jaal and makes him stand upright by tilting his head up and cupping his helmet with her small hands. “You don’t have to bow to me. Not you. Not like that,” she says thickly. “Call me by my first name if you would like. I trust you.”

“Whatever you wish, Ryder,” Jaal promises her.

Ryder stares at him and searches for an answer in the paneling of his helmet. She only sees her own reflection staring back at her though.

She slowly moves away and trudges towards the clearing. She calls down the Nomad without a word and climbs into the driver’s seat. Cora and Jaal follow after her, and Ryder makes sure to divert most of the heat towards them so that they warm up faster.

Cora boots up the map interface and shows Ryder where Techiix is relative to their location. They trundle along in relative silence, but Jaal finally taps the side of the Nomad. The hollow sound rings out in the cramped space between them all, and Ryder absently asks, “Something wrong? I’m making sure to go at least 30 miles below my usual speed.”

She ignores the way Cora mutters, “Still over the recommended speed limit by 20 miles though.”

Jaal ignores that as well and says, “Ryder, you could leave Voeld right now. Rescuing the prisoners would have been enough to gain Evfra’s trust. You could move on to Havarl and then achieve your own objectives.”

Ryder continues to drive steadily onwards, but she does consider the suggestion for one second. Still, she tosses the idea aside. “I promised to deliver this to Buxil in Techiix,” she stubbornly replies. “I promised. Why would I leave now?”

“You didn’t promise anything, Ryder,” Cora points out. “He couldn’t understand you.”

Ryder waves Cora off and then yelps as the Nomad veers to the side. She jerks the wheel back in place and steers them back on a straighter path. Once she has her bearings again, she says, “Doesn’t stop the meaning and the intention of the agreement though. I think we communicated the promise dealio pretty well with all things considered. I’ve gotten _really_ good at gesturing as a form of communication.”

“Good job, Pathfinder,” Cora dryly replies. “I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks, Cora,” Ryder laughs. “But yeah, I’m not leaving yet, Jaal. This blasted icy planet just has to deal with me a little while longer because I’m not done with yet.”

“A noble decision,” Jaal quietly says. “I appreciate the efforts you are putting forth for my people.”

“It’s just the right thing to do,” Ryder sighs. “Besides, what would I do with the drive? Eat it? No, it’ll be better off in the hands of whatever angara this goes to next.” She continues to drive onwards, and when the silence bothers her too much, she accelerates the Nomad to her usual driving speeds. Ryder’s lips twitch into a smile when she feels the familiar sense of speed and starts hurtling around the towering spires of ice that Voeld has to offer.

They arrive in Techiix, but Jaal and Cora lurch out of the Nomad and fall to their knees in the snow. Ryder climbs out and gives them all a dirty look. Her driving wasn’t as bad as it normally was. The snow made it somewhat easier to glide around, and she liked to drift on sharp turns. Clearly, some people didn’t have enough appreciation for good driving.

Buxil is a relatively older angara with pink and lavender hues coloring her skin. She brightens up and flares out the folds of skin by the side of her face when she sees them. “I heard from Niilj that you have something for me,” she says excitedly. Electricity sparks off her skin despite the thick padding she has on to ward off the cold.

Ryder takes off her helmet and pulls her tangled hair back into a ponytail. Buxil’s eyes focus on her hair, and she exclaims, “So this is the tiny alien that saved Niilj! So fascinating. Can she understand us? Can we understand her? Niilj said that she stabbed a knife into a kett’s head.”

“True,” Jaal chuckles. “We’re working on a compatible translator program to work with Resistance tech, so you can’t understand her. She has the drive though.”

Ryder hands the drive over to Buxil, and Buxil flashes her a grin speckled with a few sparks of bioelectricity. “Excellent,” Buxil says, rubbing her hands. “We have some rooms available for you to rest and recharge in. We repaired some of the sunlight lamps, so they should be working perfectly fine now.”

“Thank you,” Jaal says as he dips into a small bow. Buxil gives a few directions that mean absolutely nothing to Ryder, but Jaal nods along. He herds Ryder and Cora over to a set of rooms towards the center of Techiix. They’re warm enough, and Ryder’s grateful for the brief respite from the cold. Well, it’s still cold, but it’s definitely not as cold as the trek across the open plains were.

Ryder relaxes and starts going through her inventory. There are some places in her armor too that require some upkeep. A side-effect of charging into the fray was that she took more hits to her shields and her armor than the others did. It just takes a bit of omnigel slapped over the armor for a temporary fix. She could make more permanent fixes once she was aboard the Tempest, but it’s nice to have that moment of solitude.

She also calls in another rotation of the crew. Like she promised, she keeps Jaal on the team, but she searches for someone else. Liam’s itching to come back, but so are the others. Drack’s filled her inbox with requests to do something other than sit around in the medbay, but for every message that he sent, there is one from Dr. T’Perro insisting that he get more bedrest. The drugs still aren’t completely out of his systems which are metabolizing them at a slower rate due to his age. Peebee wants to come out for a joyride, but Ryder’s not quite sure if she needs another person with biotics. She’s not sure if the kett have defenses that work well or poorly against biotic abilities, so she wants someone with different abilities than hers and Jaal’s. Vetra still refuses to land on Voeld, so she settles on Liam.

The message he sends back is so full of enthusiasm that it makes Ryder smile. She looks up from her messages and observes her other crew members. Cora’s fiddling with her shields, and Jaal is peering at some interface of his. Ryder’s not familiar enough with angaran technology yet to recognize what he’s going, but she guesses that he’s checking up on his translator and the suit integration with the Initiative network.

“Hey, Cora?” Ryder calls out to her. “Thank you for your help, especially during the recent fight. I’m switching you out for Liam though. We’ve been traveling on Voeld for five-ish days, and I think that’s enough cold exposure for you. Don’t want you to get frostbite.”

“Alright,” Cora says easily. Her gaze locks onto Ryder as she murmurs, “One thing I wanted to say before I leave.” She hesitates before she says, “Your father would be proud of you.”

Ryder looks down at her feet and thinks about her dream and her memory of Yellowstone. The cerulean skies stretching out across the landscape, heedless of the tectonic stabilizers and the weight of the world that it covered. Her father standing among the tall grasses and staring up at that same bright blue. In her mind’s eye, she can picture him turning back to look at her with the greying hair and wrinkles that he had when he first arrived to Andromeda. She shuts her eyes tightly at the thought, and she quietly replies, “Thank you. That means a lot to me.”

And for once, she’s telling the truth when she says it.

When she awoke and news of Alec’s death spread across the Hyperion and then the Nexus, that was the most pithy saying people would tell her. _I’m sure Alec would be proud of you and what you’re going to do._ She knew that was false. People wanted her father as the Pathfinder, not her, and it was just a simple platitude that they said to save face. So, Ryder always replied back with an equally hollow statement, but now, she feels something fill in her chest, warm and sweet.

She means it this time.

Hours pass, but Buxil comes running back to their room with Liam in tow. When Jaal opens the door, they’re both out of breath, but Liam tackles Ryder in a friendly hug and claps her on her back. “Good to see you, Ryder!” he laughs. “Damn, forgot how cold it was down here.”

Buxil, on the other hand, holds up the drive triumphantly and says, “This has information about the kett command center including its entire layout and configuration!” Jaal gasps, but he holds back his words when Buxil’s expression sobers. “But,” she says softly. “They change the codes for the shields all the time, and this data is weeks old. They’re going to change the codes again.”

Ryder stands up immediately and says, “Then we have to move now. Where’s the base?”

Jaal turns around and gapes at Ryder. “That quickly?” he asks. “You are willing to commit yourself that quickly?”

Ryder shrugs. “Time is of the essence,” she tells him. “And if they’re about to change the codes for the shields again, then we have to move now. Can you ask Buxil for the location to the base? Give us a navpoint, and I’ll take us there.” When she glances back at Cora, Cora already has her map up and ready.

Jaal blinks at her before he recovers and parrots back what Ryder said to Buxil. Buxil’s eyes light up, and Ryder can see the electricity fizzling around the folds of Buxil’s skin again. “Wonderful,” she exclaims. “Here, I’ll upload it to Jaal’s visor, and he can input it into your tech. Stay strong and clear, Pathfinder. Thank you so much.”

She bustles off to finish her analysis, and Jaal shuts the door before he sags against it. “You surprise me every time,” he admits. “Your… Tenacity. That and your willingness to do anything new if it is for a good cause. Your title truly suits you, Ryder. Pathfinder. You are most exemplary, although I have never met one before.”

Ryder blinks at the sudden praise and flushes bright red. Jaal cocks his face and says, “Your face is now pink, Ryder. Is this a different human gesture or?”

“She’s just blushing,” Liam snickers. “We do it when we’re embarrassed or drunk or in oher situations. Don’t know if the angara have this, but the blood rushes near the surface of the skin to improve blood flow and oxygen delivery and all that.”

“Ah, I see,” Jaal nods. “Humans are easily embarrassed then. I have seen Ryder do this many times.”

“Oh my god,” Ryder groans as Liam’s laughter grows louder.

Cora joins in the laughter as well before she takes her leave. Just before she leaves, she passes her navigation data off to Liam who sobers and studies them with an intense expression. Ryder follows Cora out and watches as she takes back off to the Tempest. Then, they load out of Techiix. Liam brought additional supplies with him like ammunition and medigel when he arrived to Techiix, and they all divide it out equally before getting into the Nomad again. They’ll need it if they’re going to assault the shields.

They circle around to the Ja Niihk dig site to observe the shields after they receive a message from Commander Do Xeel. Ryder looks at the tall, alien structure and marvels at the architectural feat. The kett shield over it shimmers under the light, and Jaal swears something untranslatable under his breath when he sees the throngs of kett at the location. They transmit their observations back to Buxil and Commander Do Xeel before they return to a more isolated location.

Liam has a hard time pinpointing the exact location since the navpoint seems to shift and flicker whenever they get too close. However, they manage to reach the wide mouth of a cave with a few kett guards. Ryder parks the Nomad behind a large outcropping of boulders and ice, and they head out as quietly as they can. Jaal brings up his Lanat to snipe down the kett from afar.

Ryder steps up to the mouth of the cave and scans the area. “What do you think, SAM?” she whispers.

“Based on previous information received, I suspect that this is the tactical operations center for the kett,” SAM replies. “I would suggest caution as you proceed, Pathfinder.”

“Yeah, no duh,” Ryder mutters under her breath.

“If you do not appreciate my opinion, Pathfinder, then I suggest you do not ask for it in the first place,” SAM coolly replies.

Ryder almost chokes when she hears SAM’s modulated voice say that out loud, and Liam and Jaal both snicker in the background. She gives both of them a deathly glare and wishes she could glare at SAM too. However, she carries on with the mission.

Strangely, the mission is straightforward. Ryder was expecting something crazy with the kett like traps. Perhaps they never expected the Resistance to infiltrate the base. There are a couple of medical caches and geological samples that she snags on her way through the caverns, and the only battle that she really has to try in is the group of kett by the energy barrier by the shield consoles. Jaal disables the kett base shield, and Ryder and Liam handle the last of the kett.

“That’s only the first part though,” Liam sighs. He rolls over a kett body and sees if they have anything useful. Ryder looks over at Liam, and Liam shrugs. “We’ve got the base next. That’ll be more challenging than this.”

“Oh, yeah, definitely,” Ryder mumbles as she examines another body. She was really hoping that this would be the end of it and that the kett hated being on Voeld as much as Vetra seemed to hate it.

Liam keys in a new navpoint on their map, and Ryder leads the way into the base. The caverns twist and spiral even deeper and darker, but Ryder lights up the way when she charges towards the kett with a blaze of energy. She lights up the caves with blue and tumbles out onto the bridge near the exit. All the kett heads turn towards her, and Ryder grimly smiles. “Hello, world,” she whispers. “Ryder here.”

Her aura of biotic energy snaps back to life, and she leaps through the air, almost defying gravity. She lands and crashes two kett into each other. Her momentum transfers over to the kett who fall off the bridge towards their deaths. The other kett quickly get shot with bullets from Ryder’s assault rifle. She hurriedly hunches behind a container when the kett react with too many bullets for her liking. She tosses a ball of fire from her omnitool over and waits until she hears the incineration land correctly. The smoke from the fire is her guide as she plunges into her next charge. Her omni-blades slash through kett armor — a weapon upgrade made on Eos after studying kett armor — and she slices through two more kett.

Across from her. Liam steadily makes his way across the bridge with his frag grenades lighting up the way. He uses his overclocked omni-blades to dispose of a couple of kett before he overloads a few shields. Ryder times his overload with her charge, and they both watch as the kett explode and tumble over the edge of the bridge railing.

Fresh reinforcements now pour from the base, but Jaal snipes them down from a distance. The rest are easy pickings for Ryder and Liam, but Ryder does have to squat behind a container and apply some medigel when a bullet cracks through her shields and armor. She winces from the pain, but the anesthetic from the medigel numbs the pain enough for her to carry on.

“Pathfinder, there is a location of interest you may want to see,” SAM suddenly says. Ryder grits her teeth and hauls herself up. “There appears to be a kett secure storage building. The entry is locked out by a defense matrix.”

“Well, now you’ve piqued my curiosity,” Ryder says. “Time to break that down then.”

She scans the defense matrix for any weaknesses and then comms Liam. “Hey, Liam, do you think there’s any sort of generator here?” she asks. “There’s this defense matrix, and besides, if we get the entire power grid down for this place, it’ll probably help us.”

“I noticed one, but I’ll run a few more scans,” Liam replies. He’s out of breath, but Ryder can still hear the undercurrent of energy in his voice. “I’ll update the map with any additional locations I find.”

Ryder smiles at that. “Thanks, Liam,” she says. “You’re the best.” The sound of footsteps distracts her from whatever Liamhas to reply, and she hurriedly flattens herself against a container for some cover as more kett start raining bullets down on her.

“Hey, Jaal?” she now calls over the line. “Are we getting any sort of reinforcements, or are we going to slog through this alone?”

“There may be Resistance forces gathering near the entrances and distracting the kett on the outer edges of the base,” he answers. “But for reinforcements right here, right now?” He huffs out a small laugh. “I do not think so.”

“Fantastic,” Ryder mutters. She chucks a ball of biotic energy at the group of kett gathering near her. “Better get those generators down.”

She pushes away from the container and leaps into the air with her jump jets. Just before she loses momentum, she gathers a crackling field of energy and uses it as a launch-pad to crash straight into the kett. Her blades reflect the light from her biotic energy as she raises them up to stab into the kett. By now, she’s figured out the best crevices between their style of armor for the quickest and most efficient kill. She jerks her blades back and pulls out her assault rifle to finish the job.

Her interface sends her a ping, and SAM quietly says, “Pathfinder, there is a security terminal that has locked down access to the tower. The terminal is protected behind a force field that you will need to disable before you obtain access to the tower.”

“Wonderful,” Ryder grits out. She pops a heat sink and slams another one in just in time to take down the last kett in this pocket. She glances at her interface, and her lips twitch into a smile when she sees Liam’s navpoint. First generator found. It’s near the previous navpoint that Liam set for their first major phase of assault, and it’s on the bottom floor. Ryder starts sprinting towards the stairs, but then, she changes her mind and leaps off the edge of the railing. She plummets down several floors and lands in a plume of biotic energy. When she looks back up, she sees Jaal and laughs, “Good to see you. We gotta get those generators down.”

Jaal’s tone is tight as he says, “You never fail to terrify me, Pathfinder.”

Ryder can hear the worry in his voice, so she claps his back and says, “Don’t worry so much about me. I’ve got biotics, and I’ve got jump jets. I’ll survive. Hell, I survived being dropped down a mountain while almost being struck with lightning a few times. This is nothing.”

“That does not reassure me,” Jaal sighs. “And it does not get rid of the fear that I have whenever I see you put yourself in danger.”

Ryder softens and murmurs, “I’ll try to do better next time.”

Jaal reaches out to squeeze her hand, but then, they turn and start sprinting towards the navpoint. They can’t waste more time.

It doesn’t take long to find, thanks to Liam. Liam’s already up near the platform, finding the second generator, so it’s up to Ryder and Jaal. Ryder opens up her omnitool and makes SAM scan it while she fiddles with the generator.

After a moment, SAM says, “Pathfinder, I would advise caution when working with the second wire to the—”

He doesn’t get the time to finish before Ryder accidentally snips the wrong wire. She only has a split second of coherent thought before her instinct kicks in. Ryder tackles Jaal, and her biotics flare out in the beginning phase of a nova to protect them both. As the generator starts to explode behind them, blue and purple swathes both of them in a protective aura. Her energy reacts to the electricity from the generator and Jaal’s startled electric field, and the blue and purple stains into different hues, almost like an aurora. The force of the blast still knocks them back from the generator, and they land in a heap.

Ryder is on top of Jaal, and her breath is knocked out of her lungs. She can’t move off of him, and her biotics start to waver against the edges of Jaal’s electric field. Jaal is the one to ease her off of him and carefully cradle her to check on any damages or injuries. She can barely make a coherent sound, and Jaal mutters something untranslatable under his breath. He fumbles against the pouch she has on her armor, and his large hands have a hard time getting the smaller latches open. Still, he manages to get her medigel out, and he clicks it into the slot on her omnitool. She has enough strength to activate the medigel for herself, and a cooling sensation runs down the inner grooves of her armor, soothing the aches and the pain.

Ryder sighs, “Thank you so much.”

However, Jaal grips her by her shoulders, and now, his fear is so palpable in his voice, and she can feel his electric field flickering erratically with the signal for fear. “Never do that again,” he growls with more vehemence than she expected. “Do not put yourself in danger’s way on purpose.”

“It’s in my job description,” Ryder retorts. “How do you expect me to be a Pathfinder without taking some risks?”

“A Pathfinder who is still alive!” Jaal explodes. That startles Ryder into silence, and Jaal’s grip tightens on her shoulders. “And you threw yourself in front of me to save me,” he whispers. “This makes this the second time you have saved my life on Voeld. Do you know how much that means to me and how much that scares me? You are so small compared to my kind, and yet, you pay no heed to danger and charge straight in. I fear for your safety, Ryder.” He hesitates, but then, he quietly says, “I would not forgive myself if you died protecting me, Sara. Please, for my sake if not yours, take care of yourself.”

The sound of her first name on Jaal’s lips makes Ryder freeze. Normally, she doesn’t like hearing it anymore, doesn’t like the reminder that the name brings, doesn’t like the way people use it to make her seem less of a Pathfinder and more of a child. But the way Jaal says it… It sounds so tender. She would gladly listen to Jaal say her name over and over again. Ryder bows her head and says, “I’m sorry. I’ll try. I promise you, I’ll stay alive.”

She lifts her head up, and in their close proximity, she can clearly see Jaal’s face through his helmet. His eyes glitter in the slight shadow from his helmet, and she’s startled by the look on his face. For one, she’s still not quite used to the open and emotive expressions of the angara. They make little to no effort to hide whatever they feel, and whether that be fear, anger, or happiness, it’s easy to tell once you know a few angaran social cues and get used to their alien mannerisms. But here, in this moment, Ryder can see Jaal’s emotions bright and bold across his features, and she feels so guilty. “Stay strong and clear,” Jaal whispers in a hushed tone. He pulls away from Ryder and slings his rifle off his shoulder.

From there, they clear out the rest of the base. Liam takes care of the second generator while Jaal dismantles the third. SAM informs her that both were taken care of in a far more delicate manner than Ryder did with hers, but the defense matrix and the force fields are down. Ryder circles back to check for any useful inventory and data, and SAM helps her scan some valuable technology. There are a couple of messages in Tonaizhet that Ryder saves for future reference. Maybe it’ll help SAM decode more of the language.

Once she’s satisfied with all the things they’ve retrieved from the kett’s stocks, she approaches the security terminal and disables it with SAM’s help. There’s a smaller explosion, but it’s far more contained, and Ryder ensures that she has it completely under control using her omnitool and her biotics. It’s a small shower of sparks compared to the explosive nova she had earlier. She can hear Jaal sigh with relief when she’s done.

Ryder turns back to Jaal and Liam, and the grinding sounds of the door opening to the hangar bay fill the space between them. Liam is the first to step forward, and he places a hand on Ryder’s shoulder. “Ready for the final burst?” she asks.

“We didn’t spend two weeks nearly freezing to death for us to stop now,” Ryder comments.

Liam laughs at that. It’s a soft, amused huff of breath more than a full-on laugh, but Ryder still counts it as one. “Two weeks of freezing and enduring your driving,” he quips. “Although it was only a week in total for me. Cora messaged me and asked if I got used to being carsick again. Did you know? I never really got car sickness until I got in a vehicle driven by you, Pathfinder.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” Ryder grumbles. She claps him on the back though and turns to face Jaal. “Are you ready?” she asks.

“Only if you are,” Jaal evenly says. His voice still sounds tighter than it normally is, but he doesn’t sound quite as angry as he was by the first generator.

Liam nudges Ryder, and on a private comm line, he asks, “What’s wrong with Jaal?”

“I made a few poor decisions that scared him,” Ryder replies shortly. “I’ll handle it.” She turns to Jaal and on a different private channel, she pings his comm and says, “Hey, Jaal?”

Jaal focuses on her, and Ryder takes a step closer until she can clearly see his face through the frosted helmet. She reaches out to wipe some of the frost and blood stained across the paneling and says, “I know I scared you. I know I have a tendency to take risks. Cora said it too. I make stupid choices sometimes. I put myself at risk a lot.” She laughs softly. “Contrary to popular belief, I have some sort of thought that goes into my decisions,” she tells him. “But that generator was plain stupid. I just didn’t listen to SAM before making that cut. But I want you to know that I’m doing the best that I can. I don’t make many risks lightly.”

Jaal exhales out a heavy sigh, but he presses his hand flat against Ryder’s chest. “I know this,” he rumbles. “In the past few months, I have come to know this. I do not like seeing you putting yourself at risk like this. I have lost too many people to risk, but I will admit that I understand the point of it and the value of it. But you… You risked your life for me several times over on this planet alone.”

“And I would do it again,” Ryder promises. “We’re friends, Jaal, and we’re on the same crew. We look out for each other. I’ll watch your six, and you can watch mine. It’s the same principle as a trust fall. I trust you, Jaal, and I’ll keep an eye out for you. I trust that you’ll do the same, and we’ll just have to be smarter about it next time.” She stretches out her own hand for a human handshake as she says, “Now, are you ready to kill a bunch of kett?”

That makes Jaal laugh, and he shakes her hand with a firm grip. It’s better than the first handshake that she tried to teach him back on Aya. Strangely, Aya feels so far away both in terms of time and distance. The cold seems to numb everything, including her sense regarding this. But regardless, Jaal’s handshake feels like it’s grounding her back to the present.

_“Vesoas ava tavetar,”_ Jaal promises her.

The phrase is new to her, and Ryder awkwardly repeats, _“Vesoa avan tavetan._ Well, no, that didn't sound right.  _Vesoas,_ hm, uh,  _vesoas ava tavetar._ What does that mean?”

Jaal chuckles softly and replies, “Loosely, I suppose we could say that it means something along the lines of ‘let us travel together to the very end.’ Ah, I do not know how to phrase this very well, but it is not a phrase used lightly. But I willingly and happily tell this to you. To the end, Sara.”

Strangely, the meaning of the phrase makes her feel warm. She bends her head and echoes, “To the end.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> translations:  
>  **vesoas ava tavetar** — “let us travel together to the very end”, a more intimate angaran phrase spoken to close friends, family, and lovers before beginning battle, more commonly used in the dialect of shelesh spoken on havarl (non-canon phrase, derived from the canon words “vesoan” meaning “traveler” and “tavetara” meaning “reborn”, implying that the speaker’s soul will follow the person to the very end, even through reincarnation. this makes the phrase much more intimate)
> 
> granted, i know incredibly little about linguistics, and i'm _terrible_ at grammar even in my own native language, but?? idk, i just really enjoy the concept of different dialects of shelesh between the different planets. havarl's supposed to be the "ancestral home of the angara" + jaal is from havarl, so i'd imagine that his dialect holds a few more archaic bits of shelesh compared to voeld's accent / dialect and the standardized form of shelesh presumably used on aya. such a minor detail, i know, but i thought it would be a nice touch to have jaal use a more intimate phrase that's more personal and unique to him.
> 
> also, yes, long chapter! i just got carried away with the battle scenes. i think we'll be wrapping up voeld soon tho!


	14. prefect

Jaal’s words stay with Ryder as she heads to the hangar bay. Even when the kett start to pour in, she can’t stop thinking about his words.  _ Vesoas ava tavetar. Let us travel together to the very end. _ Half of her thinks it’s sweet, but the other half of her refuses to let this be the end. Over her dead body will she let Jaal meet his end here on this godforsaken ice box of a planet. She’ll bring him back home, safe and sound, to Havarl and back to Aya. Ryder refuses to bring another dead body back. Not another life lost on her watch. 

_ Never again, _ she promises herself.

So, with that thought in mind, she follows the brilliant flare of Liam’s frag grenade with her eyes and uses the same trajectory to launch her next charge. In the moment of weightlessness before she hits ground, she flips out her blades and lands with both stabbed into bodies. A new record; she’s never managed to get two in one shot before. But she doesn’t have the time to waste on celebrating such a fact. Instead, she moves forward, and the residual biotic energy left on her ablative plating adds an extra zing to her melee blows. In this close proximity, her blades are more efficient and deadly than her assault rifle can be, so she resorts to her hacking and stabbing. A wry smile quirks her lips up when she thinks about how Cora would disapprove of such a reckless measure. It works though, and Ryder will take anything that works. 

Once her pocket of kett is done, she glances up just in time to see Liam take down a kett with a well-aimed havoc strike. Jaal easily keeps up as he tosses a grenade forward, and Ryder watches as it lands solidly on the back of a kett. For some reason, the grenade doesn’t detonate. She jerks her gaze over to Jaal and watches with wide eyes as he raises his sniper rifle and patiently waits. Then, when the kett stumbles back and tries to retreat with his fellow soldiers, Jaal shoots and detonates the grenade with a single shot. The blast kills all of the other kett surrounding the original kett, and Ryder laughs at the sheer ingenuity of it.

“Smart idea,” she calls out to him.

“Damn good shot too,” Liam chimes in.

She’s too far away to clearly see his face, but she can hear the smug smirk in the very nature of his tone. “Thank you,” he replies. “It has never failed me yet.”

They move through the hangar bay and one by one, Ryder and SAM overload the systems to destroy the hangar’s fueling systems. She can feel Jaal’s gaze drilling into the back of her neck as she works on the overloads, but it’s mostly SAM’s work that goes into it. She just stands there and points her omnitool at the consoles.

Kett reinforcements continuously flow in as she works on the consoles, and at some point, Ryder wonders how many forces the Archon has. Their numbers seem endless, and Ryder just doesn’t understand how they manage to sustain this kind of population. Perhaps they were just… Incredibly fertile? A short childhood and a quick maturity rate compared to other species? Ryder’s not sure if she really wants to know the truth, but no matter what the science might be behind it, the kett don’t stop their assault. Liam and Jaal do their best to keep them off Ryder as she keeps SAM working on the consoles. 

The rest of the mission turns into a blur. Stab, shoot, repeat. Stab, shoot, repeat. Ryder manages to sprinkle in a liberal amount of biotic charges in there as well, but overall, combat starts blurring into a single memory emblazoned on Ryder’s mind. There are a few kett who stand out though. Some walk like the angara do and some fight like the angara do. Broad shoulders, electricity radiating off their bodies, great strides and strangely jointed legs and all. 

It unsettles Ryder, but what unsettles her more is when she starts glimpsing things that shouldn’t be there. She charges into one kett and stabs her blades in like she always does, but instead of hitting soft flesh through the cracks of the armor, she pulls back and sees hardened plates across the kett’s skin, shining through the broken armor. Ryder rears back to punch the kett in the head and starts hacking at it, trying to get back the new layer of armor. When the kett finally falls dead to the ground, Ryder prods the body and briefly runs the scanner on it. The scanner reads  _ thulium _ in glowing, orange letters, and Ryder almost chokes when she sees the word. Thulium was a metallic element found on Palaven, formed after millennium of excessive radiation penetrating through a weak magnetic field and evolved to grow inside turian plates. She has no idea if thulium is present in Andromeda as well, and Voeld is the polar opposite of hot and arid Palaven. 

Ryder shudders, but a kett discovers her, bent over the body. She grits her teeth and resumes fighting. They manage to cut off air support by destroying the platforms in the hangar, but then, another problem crops up in the form of a giant kett with a bubble around it.  It’s stupidly tall, taller than Jaal even, and as a person who is shorter than Jaal, Ryder finds this absolutely annoying. It hovers in the air thanks to something glowing along the edges of its armor. Ryder isn’t close enough to scan it, but she suspects that it’s some sort of kett tech for hovercraft built into its armor. Its armor is spiked, and even from her distance away from it, Ryder can see the current of energy crackling across the armor. That was a definite thing to not touch. It has a flowing cape through, and Ryder muses on whether or not she can do something with that. 

She turns on the main comm line and bites out, “Distract that thing while I go behind it, will you?”

“Gotcha, Ryder,” Liam radios back. He chucks a frag grenade, and when it explodes in the new kett’s face, it lets out a high-pitched scream. The pitch is far higher than any kett Ryder’s ever seen, and she grimaces.

“We call this variant of kett a Prefect,” Jaal hurriedly says into the comm. He ducks for cover and then hurls a sticky grenade for good measure. There’s a brief silence as Jaal shoots the grenade and sets off a miniature corona of flame. Then, he says, “At least, that is what we can tell from the reports that we can decipher. Tonaizhet is a foreign language, but over the years, it is starting to pick up phrases and cues from Shelesh.”

“Jaal, I know you and I are dabbling in linguistics and all that, but can we save this for later?” Ryder pants out. She starts sprinting behind the Prefect, dodging different kett soldiers that are left. Jaal and Liam start sinking bullet after bullet into the Prefect, but the Prefect flings back strong blasts of energy back. 

Ryder wades through kett reinforcements and judiciously flings incinerating blasts immediately after her omnitool recharges them. Some are a little too far-flung and strike the Prefect instead. She hastily climbs a stack of cargo boxes before she sticks her hand out for a frame of reference. Against the outline of her hand, Ryder gazes at the Prefect and races through a few mental calculations before she shrugs and ignores them all. She leaps into the air with her jump jets and instinctively reaches for her biotics. She jets through the air at the trajectory that feels the best and lands directly on the Prefect’s back.

She can hear both Liam and Jaal yelp in the still-open comm line, but Ryder ignores them in favor of yanking the fluttering cloak back. The Prefect chokes and gasps for air, but Ryder uses the opportunity to brace her feet against its back and stab a knife through its throat. The electricity coursing over its armor starts breaking through her shields, and SAM makes her entire interface light up with an urgent red. “Give me some time,” Ryder hisses to SAM. Without waiting for a reply, she tightens her grip on the cloak and slams her fists downward in the beginnings of a nova.

The world hones onto this single point, carved out by her own hands, and the element zero nodes in her body all light up in the same pattern of a bursting star. Her vision starts to swim from the sheer amount of light exuding off her fist, and in that slim space, she swears she can see miniature stars and asteroids and planets all whirl around her until they fade into brilliant white. But then, her fist hits the ground with the Prefect’s cloak still tightly grasped in it, and from there, a nebula explodes around her. 

Biotic fire licks up and consumes the Prefect, rattling the electricity out of it and making it fall down to the ground. Blue wracks the glowing white spaces in its armor where it used to hover, and kett blood leaks out of the Prefect’s throat where Ryder stabbed it. Ryder staggers to her feet and stabs down with her blade once more. It sinks in, deep and true, and Ryder cringes from the wet squelch she hears when she pulls the blade out. The Prefect raises its head, and with the last dying spark of life in its eyes, it cackles something in Tonaizhet at her.

Ryder cocks her head with confusion, but then, the Prefect’s armor charges up one last time. Electricity bursts from the Prefect’s armor and hits Ryder square in the chest. She’s thrown back, and the air gets knocked out of her lungs as she slams against the wall. Her shields are shattered almost instantly, and she takes the full brunt of the hit. Ryder coughs out and struggles for breath, but she can’t push herself up.

She thought she saw stars in the brief moment of her nova, but now, Ryder stares up at the ceiling of the kett hangar and swears she sees constellations among the metal alloys comprising the ceiling. Her vision also blurs when she tries to sit up, so she slumps back down against the cold, blood-stained ground. Her ears are ringing with some unidentifiable sound, but then, Jaal’s voice cuts through it all as he cries out,  _ “Sara!” _

“Guh,” Ryder manages to get out.

Liam steadies her head with his hands and says, “Her pupils are too big. Ryder, can you hear me? Can you see me?”

Ryder squints her eyes and mumbles, “Too blurry.”

“Concussion,” Liam decisively says. “Jaal, patrol the perimeter to see if there are any other kett reinforcements coming in.”

“But—” Jaal starts to say.

“Jaal, I know you want to help, but the way you can help right now is if you check the perimeter,” Liam says, voice serious and flat for once. “I need to check Ryder and administer first aid which you don’t know how to do for humans. Check the perimeter, Jaal, and ping me on my comm if there’s something.”

“Alright,” Jaal says. Ryder still can’t make him out, but she can hear his voice in her comm. “Keep her safe.”

“Of course,” Liam says. He bends over Ryder again and peers at her. He pulls off his combat glove with his teeth and spits it out as he moves his finger left to right in front of Ryder’s face. “Can you track my finger with your eyes?” he asks.

Ryder tries, but she’s not entirely sure if she succeeds at it. Then, Liam drops his hand and pulls her own glove off. Ryder wants to protest, but Liam pinches her  _ hard. _ Ryder lets out a soft yelp. Liam sighs and says, “You seem decently alert. You can still understand me. You still feel pain. Good. Good. Better than being unresponsive. Sorry ‘bout that, Ryder.”

He stabilizes her head with his hands and warns, “Don’t move your head. You might have spinal injury and head trauma from that. Too much movement could kill you, Ryder, do you understand me? Don’t nod.”

Liam mutters something under his breath — Ryder thinks it might be something like,  _ Dr. T’Perro and Cora are going to kill me for this _ — and fishes something out of a pouch on his belt. It’s a small packet, and he cracks it. Then, he gently places it on her forehead. Ouch. Ryder didn’t realize she had a lump there. It’s cold, and Ryder welcomes the cooling sensation. He resumes holding her head down in the same position.

“No more kett. Found a few in the hallways and eliminated all of them. You and Ryder shoudl be safe,” Jaal rings in on the comm. “I also found the consoles for the outpost at the top of this tower.”

“Great,” Liam says with relief. “Can you disable them?”

“Yes, I think I can,” Jaal replies. “With some time though.”

“Well, Ryder isn’t going anywhere,” Liam sighs. “I’ll radio the Tempest and ask for backup.” He glances down at Ryder and shakes his head. “And I thought I was foolhardy.”

Ryder can’t remember the rest of it very well. One minute, she feels the cold ice pack on her forehead and Liam’s hands by the sides of her face. Next, she sees Vetra bundled up in the most armor and clothing she’s ever seen as well as the most furious expression she’s ever seen on the turian’s face. Vetra’s beside Cora and Dr. T’Perro who have equally worried and equally angry looks on their faces. All of them lift Ryder on an emergency stretcher, and Dr. T’Perro asks her, “What is your name? Where are you and how are you feeling?”

“I’m Sa— _Ryder,_ and I’m on the universe’s coldest planet,” Ryder croaks. “And I feel absolutely shitty. Why is Vetra here? Voeld’s too cold for her.”

“I came because you were critically hurt, and the doctor needed an armed escort to you,” Vetra snaps. “Do you know how terrified we were for you on the way here? Liam mentioned something about you getting electrocuted by a generator as well as taking several bullets from the kett. Medigel doesn’t work all the time, you know! How could I  _ not _ come to Voeld?”

“You and I need to have a talk about responsibility and risks, Pathfinder,” Cora grinds out. 

“It was fine,” Ryder says as she flaps her hand. That hurts, so she drops her hand back to her side. “I already had a talk about risks with Jaal.”

“And you still made a stupid decision that risked your life?” Cora retorts.

“Pathfinder, you still have control over your cognitive functions which is good,” Lexi sighs. “Conscious enough to complain and defend yourself against Cora and Vetra, it seems. You’ll have to spend the night in the medbay tonight. I have to keep track of your condition for at least 24 hours. You’re lucky Liam was there to administer the proper first aid procedures for concussions, Pathfinder.”

“I’d tell her to not do that again, but she probably wouldn’t listen,” Liam snorts.

“That’s mean, Liam,” Ryder says. She knows it’s probably true though. It’s the nature of her vanguard training. She just likes combat to be up close and personal. Besides, how was she supposed to know that the Prefect would blast her back?

Cora throws a blanket over Ryder as they head outside to where the shuttle is. Vetra swears violently under her breath and braces herself against the cold. Cora and Dr. T’Perro ease the stretcher on the shuttle. Ryder reaches out to tug on Cora’s gauntlet and asks, “Where’s Jaal?”

“Jaal’s coming back with Buxil,” Liam answers. “He found her near the fourth building that we cleared out. She has good news apparently.”

“Pathfinder!” Buxil’s voice rings out. Ryder can’t turn her head to look over at Buxil, but soon after, the angara bends over her and peers at her. “You look like you took a nasty hit, Pathfinder,” she comments.

“Yeah, it’s not obvious at all,” Ryder replies sarcastically. The blank look on Buxil’s face tips her off and she sighs, “I forgot. You don’t have the translator installed for yourself yet, have you?”

“No, she does not,” Jaal grinds out. Ryder tries to tip her head up to look at Jaal, but the doctor reaches out and anchors her head against the pillow again. 

“Careful, Pathfinder,” she warns. “You might injure yourself even more if you move your head too much. I’m running the scans on you right now, and I can’t be sure just yet.”

Jaal bends over Ryder, joining Buxil’s side, and he looks haggard with fear and worry. Ryder always knew that the angara had expressive faces, but right now, Jaal looks even more weary than what he looked like after the generator incident. “You don’t learn, don’t you, Ryder?” he asks in an achingly tender voice.

“I wasn’t going to let that Prefect hurt you,” Ryder tells him. After a moment’s hesitation, she stumbles through the angaran words again.  _ “Vesoas ava tavetar. _ You promised me that, but over my dead body will I let you meet your end, especially not here on this frozen wasteland and not to some kett with static electricity.”

Buxil’s eyes narrow at Ryder when Ryder says the phrase, but Jaal’s expression crumbles. He kneels down beside her and holds her hand as though she was more delicate than glass. He thickly replies, “I appreciate the sentiment.”

“That kett had more powerful stuff than static electricity,” Liam comments.

Ryder rolls her eyes and snorts, “You get what I mean though.” She looks over at Jaal, ignoring the pounding ache growing in her head. “What’s the good news?”

Jaal glances over at Buxil and says, “Buxil says that disabling the shields here also disabled the shields around Ja Niihk.”

Buxil eagerly flaps her hands and adds, “You can understand me, right? Good, good. This is a monumental accomplishment, Pathfinder. Ja Niihk is a frozen city to the northeast, and it holds one of the most important archaeological sites on the entire planet.”

“The kett are incredibly weakened as well,” Jaal says. “It is the perfect time to launch an attack against the kett now and regain strongholds for the Resistance here.”

“What’s inside Ja Niihk?” Ryder asks. Jaal repeats the same question in Shelesh for Buxil.

“It is an ancient city buried underneath the ice,” Buxil says. “It’s one of the few cities perfectly preserved from the times before the Scourge. Scourge is what you people from the Jarevaon Imasaf call it, yes? But yes, our archaeologists have found signs of technology and AI still existing within the site. We simply never got to examine it further because the kett sealed it off with a large shield dome.”

“An AI?” Ryder muses. “That’s like SAM, huh? I can’t go there now because, you know, I’m currently indisposed. I’d be happy to help the archaeologists get rid of the kett and bring back the AI for the Resistance. SAM might be able to communicate with it and make the entire process easier because they’re both AIs.”

“You do not plan to take it back for your Initiative?” Jaal asks, wonder making his eyes round.

Ryder wrinkles her nose and replies, “Why would I? It’s not ours. It’s an angaran relic. That belongs with the Resistance, not with us.”

Cora makes a small sound behind Ryder, and Ryder scowls. “We’re not here to be imperialists or to start an era of colonialism,” she says. “We’re here as mutual allies of the angara. This is an alliance, and in order to make this work, we have to afford each other mutual respect for the culture and for the boundaries between us. I’m not going to take any of the relics inside Ja Niihk for the Initiative because it isn’t ours. That belongs with the Resistance and no one else.”

“Think of the scientific progress and the information we could share with each other, Ryder,” Cora prods.

“If our scientists want to study it, then they can ask the Resistance and work with the scientists on Aya,” Ryder stubbornly replies. “Also, we’d be taking up valuable space aboard the Nexus. I’ve already got crates of different rocks and plant cuttings and pieces of Remnant tech for our scientists to fiddle with. We don’t need to rob angaran historical sites to give them more work.”

Jaal gives her a strange look and says, “You never fail to surprise me.”

“Good or bad?”

“Both.”

Ryder shuts her eyes and wallows in the blissful darkness that shutting her eyes gives her. She hears Buxil and Jaal speak, and from what she can tell from the translator, they’re talking about Ja Niihk in hushed voices. Then, she can’t hear Buxil’s voice anymore, and the only sounds she really hears is the sound of the shuttle taking off.

“I’m sleepy,” she tells Dr. T’Perro with her eyes still closed. “Is that a good or bad thing?”

“You can sleep, but I’ll have to wake you up every 15 minutes for the first two hours,” the doctor replies.

“Is it even worth sleeping then?” Ryder grumbles.

The doctor chuckles, “Then perhaps you should have thought over your decisions before letting a kett blast you into the wall. I heard from Liam that your shields weren’t even up when he got to you.”

“They broke,” Ryder snaps. “What was I going to do about that? I didn't expect it to blast me. I was so sure that it was dead, and everything was fine up tot that point. I’ll have to ask Gil to take a look at my armor and shield generators for me when we get back though.”

“After the first two hours, I only have to wake you up once every 30 minutes for the next two hours,” Dr. T’Perro says. “After that, once an hour is enough.”

“You have your work cut out for you, doc,” Ryder mumbles. She can feel sleep tugging at her more insistently now.

She feels someone hold her hand gently and squeeze it once. The mystery hand is large and warm, almost dwarfing her own hand in size. Then, she hears Jaal’s voice say, “I will be by your side, Sara.”

_ “Vesoas ava tavetar,” _ Ryder slurs out before she gives in to sleep.

But just before she slips into dreamless sleep, she hears Jaal quietly reply,  _ “Vesoas ava tavetar.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> translations:  
>  **vesoas ava tavetar** — “let us travel together to the very end”, a more intimate angaran phrase spoken to close friends, family, and lovers before beginning battle, more commonly used in the dialect of shelesh spoken on havarl (non-canon phrase, derived from the canon words “vesoan” meaning “traveler” and “tavetara” meaning “reborn”, implying that the speaker’s soul will follow the person to the very end, even through reincarnation. this makes the phrase much more intimate)
> 
> and now, we are officially done with the voeld section! onto havarl we go! sorry about the delay in updates. i got busy with life and a few other things, and this fic fell on the back-burner for a bit. i've got the next two chapters outlined out, so hopefully, i update much sooner in the future. also, i swear i'll stop putting ryder in so much danger next time around. i just always ended up dying on voeld an inordinate number of times compared to any other planet during my own playthrough, and a bit of that bled through to my writing. pro tip: listen to sam when he tells you that your shields are running out.   
> thanks for your patience!


	15. catching up

Ryder wakes up sporadically, and the rest of her memory is spotty. However, she remembers the gleaming walls of the medbay and the cool hands of Dr. T’Perro brushing over her forehead. She vaguely remembers the doctor asking her questions about her name and her age and her birthday and her memories. Ryder doesn’t quite remember what she says, but she thinks she said something about wanting Scott by her side. She remembers that because it hurt to say it, and for a brief moment, she didn’t know why. Then, she did.

What she does remember is the warmth of Jaal’s hand, constantly holding her right hand carefully, delicately, _tenderly._ It’s the one constant throughout the next 48 hours. The only time she wakes up without it when Jaal and Dr. T’Perro have their backs turned to her and their heads bent over a datapad. Ryder’s propped up on one of the beds, and she can hear Dr. T’Perro say, “Brains are soft and vulnerable across all species, but in humans, a violent knock against their skulls can force the brain to jostle and move around within the skull, causing bleeding or swelling.”

“Ryder seems to get hit quite often,” Jaal says. Ryder recognizes the worry in his voice. She’s sad to report that she recognizes that all too well now.

The doctor laughs softly and tells him, “Nowadays, we’ve managed to engineer better helmets for soldiers in combat. We’ve made some adjustments to her helmet to accommodate the slightly different physics of the Heleus cluster, but other than that, she should normally be fine if her shields and her helmet all function properly. Gil tells me that the electric blast from the Prefect completely disabled her shields. He’s working on a better one and notifying Initiative scientists about it right now.”

“We could retrofit an angaran helmet for her. I’ve already sent a few schematics to Gil, but he says he does not need me hovering around,” Jaal huffs out. “Continue with the explanation, please.”

Dr. T’Perro taps the datapad and says, “So, some of the physical symptoms of concussions are blurred or doubled vision, nausea, headaches, light sensitivity, unusually large pupils or uneven pupil sizes, or bleeding at the scalp. There are also some cognitive symptoms such as problems with memory, slurred speech, erratic mood changes, lethargy, and irritability.” The doctor picks up a different datapad and taps it twice to project a hologram of Ryder. She zooms in on Ryder’s head and revolves it slowly as she says, “In Ryder’s case, Liam noted large pupil size, slurred speech, issues with vision, and some bleeding at her scalp. Thankfully, the bleeding isn’t a major issue. Just a surface-level scratch.”

“Ryder is normally quite irritable and lethargic in the mornings though,” Jaal says. He twists his hands behind his back and sways back and forth. “Is this indicative of a greater problem?”

Now, the doctor laughs even louder. “No, that just means she’s not much of a morning person,” she replies. “Is the translator picking up all the words and terminology correctly?”

Jaal shakes his head. “Not quite, but it is still understandable based on the words that I do understand,” Jaal says. “SAM is substituting in synonyms into my translator at the moment.”

“I will not be able to do so once we are off the ship,” SAM’s voice says, resonating in the small space of the medbay. “I am compiling all the words together and will create a update patch for the translator as soon as possible. A more thorough analysis of Shelesh can be run at my direct node aboard the Hyperion.”

“Which we don’t have the time for,” Ryder finally manages to croak out. Her tongue feels heavy and sandy in her mouth.

“Ryder?” Jaal breathes out. He’s the first to hurry to her side, even before Dr. T’Perro, and holds Ryder’s hand. “Are you alright?”

“I feel like an elcor ran over me, but I’m fine,” Ryder snorts.

Jaal blinks a few times and asks, “Elcor?”

“Giant species from the Milky Way,” Ryder explains. “I’ll show you pictures some other time.”

“How are you feeling?” Dr. T’Perro asks next.

Ryder manages to laugh and says, “Like I said, I feel like an elcor ran over me. Can I have some water?”

The doctor goes over to fill a small paper cup with water and says, “You’re a lucky one, Ryder. Scans show that you’re decently alright. Just some bruising and surface-level scratches. No major internal bleeding or swelling from what I can tell, and the scans show that your skull is still intact and whole. No fractures or shattering in the damaged area. You’ll have some bruises and scars along your scalp, but that’s nothing a bit of medigel can’t fix.”

“That’s great!” Ryder says after she gulps down the water. “We can go back to Ja Niihk and help the archaeologists.”

“You are not going anywhere,” Jaal rumbles. “The doctor said that you need rest.”

“Wh—” Ryder sputters. “I’m fine. Send me back to the field, doctor.”

“Ryder, I’ve prescribed you a week’s worth of rest. People who get concussions are more susceptible to it a second time, especially if you get another blow to your head before the first concussion full heals,” Dr. T’Perro chides. “You’re lucky that you got out of that mess the way you did. It could have been more serious.”

“The doctor has been informing me of human first aid,” Jaal adds. “And the risks for concussions were terrifying. Bone shards in your brain? No, no, I will not have you risk your life like that. I have already sent my reports to Evfra, and he requested that we direct our efforts to Havarl.”

“Kallo already set the coordinates and is piloting towards the planet at this moment,” Dr. T’Perro says without allowing Ryder to interrupt. “You are to rest during the entire journey there. Both SAM and I will regularly checking your health status, and I’ve given Jaal a manual on basic procedures for human first aid.”

“This is mutiny,” Ryder mutters. “Absolute mutiny. I can’t believe I have a doctor, a Resistance representative, a pilot, _and_ an AI all working against me.”

“This isn’t mutiny,” Dr. T’Perro chuckles. “It’s called taking care of you, Ryder, and you should learn how to take care of yourself better.”

“I get enough of that from Cora,” Ryder grouses. She slowly starts to push herself in a more upright position and continues, “Now, I get to hear it from every single member of my crew. Why does no one ever tell off Liam for hacking at the enemy with his omniblades but I do?”

“Because Liam doesn’t make reckless decisions as frequently as you do, and also because Liam doesn’t biotically charge into every moving thing on a planet,” Dr. T’Perro answers. Both she and Jaal help Ryder ease her way out of the bed and into a standing position. She steadies Ryder’s arms while Jaal carefully supports Ryder’s back.

Ryder flushes pink when she feels Jaal’s large hand press flat against her back. His other hand curves around her side and keeps her supported as she shakily takes a first few steps. She reaches up and places her hands on Jaal’s broad shoulders for additional support. Damn. Ryder rationally and logically knew that Jaal was strong, but now that she has him physically steadying her, she can feel his toned muscles under her bare hands. She swallows _hard._

This entire ordeal briefly reminds her of that room on Voeld, but at that time, both of them were wrapped up in armor, padding, and thick clothing to ward off the cold. But now, Ryder’s wearing a simple smock that Dr. T’Perro keeps stocked and sanitized in a nearby cabinet, and she has no armor or clothing on aside from the thin fabric.

She walks, and as she continues to step round and round in the medbay, she’s able to walk without any support. Ryder still keeps her hands out to maintain her balance, and Jaal and Dr. T’Perro aren’t far at all. She looks up and flashes both of them a thumbs-up. Dr. T’Perro smiles, but Jaal veritably _beams_ at her. Ryder blinks and quietly realizes that she misses Jaal’s touch. She blinks even more at that realization and doesn’t know why she would miss it so much.

Ryder reaches out for Jaal’s hand again, and almost immediately, he surges forward and resumes the same position: one hand at her back and the other at her side. “Do you need any assistance?” Jaal asks.

Ryder searches for words, any one from the plethora of words that the English language holds, and she finally says, “I’d like to go back to my room.”

Yeah, she wants to go back to her room so she can blush in peace and quiet and without anyone else looking at her.

“Alright,” the doctor says. “Let me just check your readings one more time. SAM?”

“The Pathfinder’s production of dopamine has increased by 42%, Dr. T’Perro,” SAM pipes up.

_“Shut—”_ Ryder hisses.

The doctor only flares her tentacles and coolly replies, “More information on her health status regarding her concussion, SAM?”

Jaal looks confusedly at the doctor and then to Ryder, and Ryder turns a brighter scarlet color. Meanwhile, SAM continues, “The Pathfinder’s physical and cognitive functions are all in order, Dr. T’Perro. I will alert you if any issue or abnormality occurs.”

“You could’ve said that,” Ryder mumbles under her breath. “You could’ve said that from the very beginning.”

“I wished to be helpful, Pathfinder,” SAM replies.

Ryder _swears_ there’s a note of cheekiness in that reply, but no one else seems to notice. Dr. T’Perro looks vaguely amused while Jaal still doesn’t get what’s going on. Ryder doesn’t even know if there’s a translation for “dopamine” or a definition for that within the translation program. She shouldn’t care this much about it. She shouldn’t.

“I will help Ryder back to her quarters,” Jaal informs the doctor. He gently starts easing Ryder out of the door, and Ryder holds onto Jaal’s arms as they leave. Thankfully, they don’t run into anyone else on the way to Ryder’s room. Jaal eases Ryder onto her bed and settles her down against her pillow. He even tucks her blanket around her. But then, he’s left at a loss for words and shuffles awkwardly beside Ryder’s bed. Ryder pats the space beside her on the bed and says, “You can sit down if you want.”

A smile spreads across Jaal’s face, and he sits down right beside her. The mattress sinks down where Jaal sits, and Ryder feels herself tipping a little closer to him. She uses the opportunity to scoot a little closer to Jaal, and she settles back down with her thigh against Jaal’s hips.

“Do you need anything else?” Jaal asks.

Ryder glances down at her smock and plucks at the fabric. “I kinda want to change clothes,” she says. “But my clothes are across the room.”

“I will get them for you,” Jaal immediately says. He gets up and strides over to where Ryder keeps her clothes. He rummages through her clothes, and for a blinding second, Ryder’s terrified that he’s going to find her old Blasto shirt that Scott snuck into her belongings as a joke. What he finds is worse though. He holds up several pairs of her bras and underwear up in the air and asks, “Is this suitable for comfort?”

Ryder lets out a strangled noise, halfway between a gasp and a laugh. Jaal rushes over to her side with the damn bra still in hand and cradles her back. “Are you alright, Sara?” he asks.

Ryder looks up at him, startled by the use of her first name. Come to think of it, she thinks that’s what he yelled when she slammed into the wall. But then, her eyes latch onto the bra and she dissolves into laughter again. “No, no, I’m fine, I just, god,” she manages to say. “Out of all the clothes you picked, you managed to pick the intimate ones.”

Jaal flexes the sides of his face and repeats, “Intimate ones?” He doesn’t miss a single beat as he says, “Do you wear these to copulate? Does that not defeat the purpose of the act or does your species perform it in a different manner?”

Ryder has _no idea_ who put the word “copulate” into the translation program, but she suspects it was SAM’s work. She probably would’ve used the word “fuck” to make the entire meaning of the word more succinct and straightforward. Well, that might not have been the best idea considering how frequently people used the word, but regardless, she can’t help but laugh again. “No, these are what I wear underneath my clothes,” she tells him. “But some humans definitely wear fancier versions to uh, prepare for it.”

“And do you?” Jaal prompts.

Ryder blinks _hard_ at that. “Uh,” she manages to say. Jaal’s too busy studying her clothing to really pay attention to her face, but then, he glances up. Ryder glimpses the same amount of intensity he affords to things like Resistance matters and his aim, but now it's directed completely and solely on her. His eyes are wide and blue as always, glinting in the light, and Ryder loses track of her thoughts. “You were saying?” she says.

“And do you?” he repeats.

Ryder plucks her bra from Jaal’s hand and turns it over in her hand. It’s regular cotton, Initiative-issued, but Ryder knows she has a few lacy pairs that she smuggled aboard after a bet with Scott about how many things she could smuggle into her box. “Well, sometimes,” she admits. “If I know that the other person would appreciate it.”

“And do they?” Jaal asks. He really doesn’t stop, does he?

Ryder shrugs and plucks the rest of her clothes from Jaal’s hands. “Usually,” Ryder tells him. “It’s the thought that really matters in regards to that. And on that, I think I’ll just pick out my own clothes.”

She starts to climb out of bed, but then, Jaal is already there to help her back to her clothes. “I can help you there at the very least,” he says, and with his body so close to her own, Ryder can feel his voice rumbling through his chest. The sound alone sends a small shiver running down the back of her spine, and Jaal curls in closer. “Are you cold?” he asks. “Liam says that shivering is a human reaction to colder temperatures.”

“Don’t you shiver?” Ryder asks as they walk.

Jaal chuckles, “We simply increase our electric charge.” He bends closer and nudges the top of Ryder’s head. Soon, she feels a gentle current run through her body, warming her down to the tips of her toes and fingers. “One of the reasons why we adapted well to the changes on Voeld,” he comments.

Ryder rummages through her clothes for pants and a shirt as she retorts, “You almost froze to death though.”

“That was due to a technical malfunction,” Jaal sniffs. “But we still do not need as much insulation as your species seems to need. Especially not as much as Vetra wore.”

“Yeah, turians aren’t really good with the cold,” Ryder sighs. She holds her clothes close to her chest and looks up at Jaal. He blinks back, and she sighs once more. “Could you, uh, turn around for a brief second?” she asks.

Jaal turns around but he’s got that puzzled look on his face again just before he turns. “Why?”

Ryder starts stripping as fast as she can. It’s military efficiency, trained into her from her father and then the Alliance. It’s a habit that she hasn’t shaken even after 600 years of cryo-sleep. She’s used to changing around other people, even aliens, from her time in the military, but for some reason, the idea of taking off her clothes with Jaal watching makes her flush even more. The old habit serves her well as she hurriedly shoves her limbs through her clothes. She stumbles and props herself against the wall, but in the end, she’s decently clothed again. Jaal glances back at the source of the sound and says, “That was very quick. But why?”

“Intimacy,” Ryder says. She runs a hand through her hair and awkwardly adds, “Humans generally don’t like taking their clothes off with people watching them unless they’re really close with them. Again, an intimacy thing, a social boundary, you know.”

“Why did you not ask me to leave then?” Jaal wonders. The folds of his face crease with concern as he continues, “I do not want to intrude on your privacy.”

“No, it’s not that I don’t want you here or that we’re not close. In fact, I do and we are close, it’s just,” Ryder struggles to say. “I don’t know. Embarrassment?”

Jaal helps her back to the bed, and as they go, he says quietly, “I do not think you should be ashamed of yourself to hide yourself like that. Perhaps it is a point of cultural disconnect, but I think yours is a body to be proud of. It does wondrous things — _beautiful_ , even — and you do not have to be embarrassed of it.”

“Beautiful?” Ryder repeats. She’s absolutely baffled.

“Yes,” Jaal says without hesitation. “You create these _biotics_ nothing but the strength of your will, and it is beautiful, like the _taosovos_ of my people but with visual color instead of the kind we normally sense. The lines of your body are strange and foreign to me, but I still find that you have a certain grace as you soar across the battlefield.”

“Y-you really have a way with words,” Ryder stammers out.

Jaal inclines his head towards Ryder and replies, “I speak only the truth.”

“I think you’re beautiful as well,” Ryder says in a futile attempt to return the compliment. She curls her hands towards her blanket and drops her gaze as she says, “Very toned, very strong, and above all else, kind.”

Jaal gently lifts her chin up with a single finger so that her gaze meets his own. In the glittering, starry irises of his eyes, Ryder can see true, genuine delight gleaming just as bright. “I appreciate that,” he tells her, honest as he ever always is. “And I think the same of you.” He gets and starts tucking Ryder in again. He does it in the same way that Dr. T’Perro does it: around her body with the right corners and then the left. Just before he leaves, he quietly says, “Stay strong and clear, Sara.”

“Stay strong, Jaal,” Ryder calls back. In a softer voice, she finishes, “And clear.”

The door clicks shut behind Jaal, and Ryder’s left with a room’s worth of silence as she mulls over what just happened. The hospital smock still lies on the floor in a small pile, so Ryder can't deny that this never happened. She can still feel the warmth flooding her cheeks too. But most importantly, she’s left grappling with what she truly thinks of Jaal Ama Darav. She suspects she knows what the fluttering in her heart is named, but she doesn’t want to admit it. He’s just a horribly honest and horribly kind guy who’s been thrown into all sorts of situations with her whether that be a lab on Aya or a kett base on Voeld.

She doesn’t get much time to herself to debate over the matter though. Almost immediately, she gets bombarded with a number of emails and messages. In a way, she's catching up on all the missed communication. One is from Commander Do Xeel who thanks her for her contribution towards the storming of the kett base as well as her condolences for Ryder’s injury. Apparently, they managed to clear out part of Ja Niihk and obtain old pieces of angaran tech that were similar to Remnant technology. They also discovered an old AI that still had some functionality. The commander added in — rather obliquely, if Ryder’s being 100% honest — that she would appreciate SAM’s insight into making the AI more peaceable and less violent.

The next is from Evfra who — in the most succinct manner Ryder’s ever seen from anyone who wasn’t her father — thanks her for her work on Voeld. Reading the message makes Ryder’s lips twitch into a nostalgic smile. She thinks Evfra and her father would’ve been good friends. Actually, she amends that thought and considers the possibility of them being rivals. Being too similar to another person could bring out that kind of streak.

The next 748 messages are all from the Initiative. Ryder spits out her water when she sees the number in her inbox folder labeled “BORING BUSINESS FROM THE NEXUS.”

The most are from Tann and then from Addison. There are a decent number of messages from Tiran Kandros and Kesh which are all decidedly kinder than Tann’s increasingly alarmed tone throughout all of his messages. To her surprise though, there are numerous messages from other people like Keri, Chief Lucan, Dr. Aridana, and Dr. Camden. Ryder scratches the back of her neck and realizes that she’s forgotten to fully notify the Initiative of her absence and her current objectives. From what she can tell, Cora sent the Nexus a brief report after reconnecting with the Iniative networks during the flight to Voeld. Aside from that, there’s been no other news except for Dr. T’Perro’s report on the entire concussion thing.

Ryder exhales and sets her water back down on her desk. She can feel a headache start to grow. She’s had far too many Tann-caused headaches for her to pretend this isn’t one of them. Ryder briefly wonders if she can put this off by chalking her headache as a residual effect from the concussion, but ignoring Tann only makes him more insufferable the next time she sees him. That’s why she starts hobbling out of her room and up to the meeting area where the hologram projectors are located.

“Ryder!” she hears Jaal call out. She pauses for Jaal to catch up and smiles at him. He beams back at her, and she swears she can feel the headache receding. “What are you doing?” he asks.

Ryder rolls her eyes and says, “Dealing with one of the most annoying problems in the Heleus Cluster.”

“Is there another issue with the kett?”

“No, it’s my boss.”

Jaal nods sagely. “I understand, but surely, your boss cannot be worse than Evfra?” he says. “Not that Evfra is a terrible person. He’s actually quite kind once you get to know him, but in the workplace, he can be… Intense.”

“No, my boss is the complete opposite,” Ryder sighs. “Tann is annoying and focuses on the wrong issues. He adores the spotlight. Makes me miss Jien Garson every single day.” She walks up to the meeting room and calls Tann up. It only takes seconds after the initial dial-up and connection to the Initiative network before Tann’s infuriated expression fills the entire hologram.

“Pathfinder Ryder!” he snaps out, angry and nettled through every inch of his tone. “How _kind_ of you to finally call.”

“You know me, Tann,” Ryder drawls. “Always busy finding more paths out there.”

Tann looks positively apoplectic and sputters, “Pathfinder, that is no excuse for the several months of absolute radio silence! The Tempest disappeared off the network, and the minute we reconnect with your ship, you send no response. In fact, your second in command was the one to inform me about your mission objectives on a frozen planet. After that, we received a medical report from Dr. T’Perro instead of a proper status report from the Pathfinder herself!! What do you have to say for yourself?”

Ryder presses a finger to her temple and tries to rein in her irritation. Tann’s right; she should’ve sent a message or something back to the Nexus sooner. She assumed that Drack would send messages back to Kesh and that the rest of her crew would resume correspondence. As much as Tann irritates Ryder, she figures that now is a time better spent on owning up. She folds her hands behind her back and stands at attention, shoulders back and spine straight. “I understand your concern, and I will admit that I should have sent word back to the Nexus sooner,” she says carefully. “However, I was occupied with establishing a better relationship and even a potential alliance with an alien species that call themselves the angara. I’m sure Cora’s informed you already, but we crash-landed on one of their planets that was still healthy and habitable. We were taken captive, but during that time, I managed to befriend one of them and even develop a translation program to further facilitate diplomatic relations with them. Now, we’re working on building trust so that I can study their functional vault and hopefully work together to eliminate the kett threat.”

Ryder steps aside to reveal Jaal. He still towers over her, but based on the fuzzy image of Tann on the projector, she suspects that she has to move aside for Tann to get a better view. She beckons towards Jaal, and he approaches the hologram with a note of curiosity in his eyes. He dips into an angaran greeting and says, “Hello, leader of the Initiative. As a representative of the angaran Resistance, I am happy to confirm that what Pathfinder Ryder said was entirely true. We are looking forward to working together, and in truth, my time aboard her ship and with her squad has been quite eye-opening and intriguing. She is truly a marvel and a good representative for your people.”

Tann blinks and stumbles for a moment. His hand disappears out of sight of the camera, and Ryder suspects that he’s one step away from sinking down into his chair. A good sign, she hopes. “What is he even saying?” Tann asks.

“Oh, shit,” Ryder mutters under her breath. “Forgot that the Nexus didn’t have the program yet.”

“Would you like me to translate, Director Tann?” SAM asks evenly. When Tann nods, SAM continues, “This is Jaal Ama Darav of the angaran Resistance movement against the kett. He is the one to develop a translation program between Shelesh and English during Pathfinder Ryder’s time on Aya, and he has joined the Pathfinder’s crew as a representative of the Resistance as well as an observer. He says that the Pathfinder is speaking the truth, and to quote directly, he says, ‘In truth, my time aboard her ship and with her squad has been quite eye-opening and intriguing. She is truly a marvel and a good representative for your people.’ Would you like any clarifications, Director Tann?” His tones are soft and modulated, but even then, Tann looks like he’s been hit by a hovercar or a rampaging elcor. Maybe both.

Ryder can’t help but say, “Cool, isn’t it?” Tann mutely nods, and Ryder claps her hands together. “Currently, we’re on our way to another planet that the angara call Havarl. The Resistance has requested assistance with some scientists on that planet, and after that, they’ve agreed to reconsider the presence of the Initiative within the Heleus Cluster. Hopefully, we can seal together an alliance and start working together.”

“But Pathfinder, what about our outposts? You’re helping their people when we can barely help our own?” Tann disputes.

Ryder sighs, “Director Tann, with all due respect, I don’t think you’re getting it. We managed to get Prodromos up and running on Eos because of the vault. In order to establish more outposts in this cluster, we need to have the vault on each respective planet working. Without the vaults working, we can’t live there. Are you with me so far?” Tann nods again, and Ryder continues, “In order to continue our work, I need to know more about the vaults and how they work. That way, I can turn one on more easily because quite frankly, the one on Eos was a close call and a little touch-and-go. The angara have a working one on their planet, Aya, and in order to get inside and study it, I need their trust, and I need their help. This is a step towards building that. Do you see the bigger picture now, Director Tann?”

Ryder admits that she put too much of a sarcastic drawl on Tann’s title, but he doesn’t seem fazed by it. The hologram of him fizzles in and out as Tann starts pacing. “So, if you manage to get this work done completely, you’ll have more outposts up and running,” he mutters. “More outposts, more people happy, all under _my_ leadership. Good, good.” He stops and pins Ryder with a glare. “But we don’t have enough time.”

“Sure, you do,” Ryder says easily. “We have Prodromos and the improving climate on Eos to ease some of the tension and the population buildup on the Nexus. We have enough resources to sustain our population for a while longer, and we don’t have everyone out of cryo yet. We don’t have much time, yes, but it’s not like we don’t have any time at all. Leave me to my job, and I’ll leave you to yours. Just keep Addison out of my hair, okay?”

Tann lets out a loud harrumph, and he points at Ryder. “I expect frequent reports back to the Nexus, alright?” he says sharply. Without waiting for a reply, he hangs up.

Ryder presses both her hands to her temples now and exhales. Dealing with Tann always makes her more stressed. Jaal carefully cups his hands around hers and says, “You are… Quite skilled at dealing with your boss.”

“Out of necessity,” Ryder grumbles. She lets her hands fall back to her sides, but Jaal doesn’t let go. “If I don’t get the meetings going, then Director Tann will keep talking about absolutely nothing, and it’s so horribly unproductive. I’d honestly rather have Evfra as my boss.” She punctuates the last sentence with a middle finger pointed at the hologram. The effect is ruined by the sound of her stomach growling loudly though.

Jaal laughs and says, “Enough worrying about your boss then. You need food.”

“So do you,” Ryder shoots back with a grin, and she tugs him to the kitchen.

Drack has the kitchen neatly organized based on levo and dextro foods, and with Jaal’s presence on the ship, he’s managed to clear out a new space for Jaal’s angaran nutrient paste. Ryder tears open a pack of rations, and based on the ravenous hunger suddenly rearing its head in her stomach, she even grabs a pack of Peebee’s food. She’s used too much of her biotics on Voeld, and although she continuously ate her field rations, they weren’t enough to sustain her completely. The texture of the food is either chalky or too wet on her tongue, but it’s food and it’s nourishing. She devours it all while laughing and chatting with Jaal the entire time.

He tells her about the fruit that grows on Aya. He describes them all in such a lush way. Red flowers that bloom from bushes and slowly mature into fat fruits that dangle off the branches. Trees with leaves mottled with blue and purple, much like the angara themselves, but with fruit that grows deep yellow as it ripens. Ryder’s mouth waters when Jaal describes how sweet they are and the different textures they have, but Ryder has to wonder if she can even eat them.

They part after that, and Ryder dives into answering her messages and responding back to different requests and reports from the Nexus. Sometimes, Liam pokes his head in to check on her, and the second time he does, he promises to send her a file with different films and albums to cheer her up after her work is done. Peebee comes in to grab a piece of tech that Ryder’s been storing for her in the back. Ryder’s room is far too big for her own use alone, so she lets the others use it for storage if they need to. Peebee and Vetra seem to be the only ones who have taken her up on her offer, but Ryder thinks Suvi has a few rocks in one of the crates.

The rest of their journey to Havarl is relatively normal aside from that. Dr. T’Perro still keeps a watchful eye on Ryder, so Ryder can’t participate in any training or practice. She ends up spending a fair amount of time at the research terminals and tries to splice together a few new materials to craft something new. It’s not entirely effective, but when she brings it to Jaal or Gil, they cluck their tongues and reforge it into something better. Well, good thing that she never became an engineer. Suvi asks Ryder if she wants to help with her rock samples, and Ryder ends up licking a few rocks here and there. She doesn’t understand what the lick test really does despite how many time Suvi tries to explain it, but she helps with some of the spreadsheets. When Cora can corner her into doing Nexus work, Ryder starts slogging through more reports and requests. The one highlight of that work is when she gets photos of Prodromos and updates on its progress. It never fails to make her smile when she sees the first new buds of their crops or the finished buildings. Eos looks better day after day, and when Ryder looks at the pictures, she marvels at how she almost died of dehydration on that planet.

But near the very end of their flight, Ryder comes across the messages that Jaal and Liam managed to collect in the kett base. It’s all written in Tonaizhet, but one message alone seems to have a decent mix of Shelesh in it. SAM scans it through and notes that some of the glyphs and characters are similar enough to the ones used in Shelesh for him to analyze. Ryder vaguely remembers Jaal telling her that Tonaizhet was gaining more phrases and cues from Shelesh while they were fighting that Prefect.

Ryder leans back in her chair and cracks her knuckles while SAM finishes up the analysis. She squints at the screen and thinks she recognizes a few words from her linguistic sessions with Jaal. There’s one character she recognizes — _tero_ — but it’s combined with another word that she doesn’t recognize at all. _Terozhesk?_ Ryder zooms in and tries to read the rest of it. There’s one that she recognizes for certain: _shetave,_ meaning music. She remembers this word because in the early days, Jaal tried to sing out loud to emphasize the meaning of the word.

SAM makes a small pinging sound and uploads the rest of the translated message.

 

_Subject: Request help_  
_Healer,  
I request diagnosis. Since landing on this planet, I hear things when I sleep. Strange melodies, half-memories. I played music once. There were smiles. A warm room. Why these sounds? This feeling? This planet makes me hurt._

 

Ryder stares at the message, and again, a strange feeling starts to root itself at the base of her heart. It unsettles her. It deeply unsettles her, just like when she found thulium in the body of a kett. Maybe that was just a secondary layer of armor that the kett built. As gruesome as it might sound, the kett may have used the bodies of the first squads and scouts the Nexus sent out when it first awoke. Ryder shudders at the thought of the kett using turian bodies as armor. A clever trick but devoid of any empathy or compassion. It might not even be true, but that thought alone strengthens Ryder’s resolve to beat back the kett.

Still, she doesn’t know why she’s feeling this strange, sinking sensation in her heart. If anything, she should be happy about this message. Because it incorporates more Shelesh than any other message that she’s found, she, SAM, and Jaal could potentially develop some sort of translation program for Tonaizhet based on the knowledge of Shelesh that they have. Ryder’s sure that SAM could probably run some more algorithms on it and come up with something passable.

Ryder glances over the other messages that SAM processed, and they’re not quite as complete as that first one.

 

_Subject: New stock_  
_New stock captured in the west. Many for work —. Some for higher purpose. You — pleased, I am —. I will send — to you: male. Strong. — stable. It will suit the —._

 

Likely something to do with the labor camps that the kett run. A frown forces Ryder’s lips down, and she glares at the message. Not if she can help it.

She pushes away from her desk and rubs her eyes. Ryder glances at the clock and almost chokes when she sees just how long she’s been sitting at her desk. Her joints ache, and she stretches her limbs out. She still can’t escape the niggling thought at the back of her mind. Only when she receives a notification of their arrival from Kallo can she truly brush it off.

After all, Havarl awaits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tonaizhet translations:  
>  **terozhesk** — help (a combination of shelesh and classic tonaizhet; a dialect found among the kett on voeld)  
> specifically, this word was derived from “teroshe” which is a canon word in shelesh which roughly means “cruel joke.” assuming that the “she” part of the word has something to do with the joke (shena = mouth, shelesh = the name of the language + jokes are smth you speak with your mouth), the “tero” part likely has something to do with the concept of cruelty. the word's literal meaning is "a call identifying cruelty" which essentially implies that the person identifying it requires help to deal with said cruelty. the "zhesk" was based on previously established sounds in tonaizhet and in-game kett sounds.
> 
> shelesh translations:  
>  **shetave** — music (derived from “shena” meaning mouth and “taoshay” meaning loved one, meant to imply that music is sourced from the heart and spoken with the mouth)
> 
> i never thought i would be making up words for tonaizhet when i started the fic but here i am at 2 am, trying to figure it out


	16. into the jungle

Havarl is humid and  Ryder hates humidity.

It’s a solid 29 °C which isn't too hot compared to the likes of Eos, and there’s enough oxygen for her to travel around without her helmet on. However, the amount of water vapor hanging low and sticky in the air makes her almost choke on the lush air. Vetra looks over at her reddened, sweat-slicked face and comments, “Come on, Ryder. It can’t be that bad. Alright, I’ll be the first to admit that I prefer Eos over this place, but it’s not that bad.”

“I’d take Voeld again,” Ryder bites out. She takes care to keep her voice low. Jaal’s up ahead, guiding their way to the scientists’ laboratory in the midst of the ravenous jungle. His words, not hers. Ryder’s still not sure what Jaal meant when he called the jungle “ravenous” but she doesn’t think she wants to find out. Regardless, she tries to tuck her irritation back under the smooth veneer of a smile. This is Jaal’s home planet; she’d rather choke on the humidity rather than disrespect Jaal’s home. 

In fact, Jaal turns back to give them all a bright and beaming smile. “Isn’t it beautiful?” he asks. He gestures out to the wildness in front of them and says, “It may be wild, but there is beauty in it. Havarl looks wonderful in the morning when the sunrise repaints the entire world in a variety of colors.” He hesitates and says with a soft huff of laughter, “Ah, take care not to touch the fungal slime though. If you get any on your skin, I, ah, suggest you wipe it off immediately.”

Ryder doesn’t like the sound of that. Still, she notices how strange — and beautiful — the plants are as they push through the undergrowth. The plants dominate the entire landscape, coating everything with a thick tangle of leaves and vines that stretch up to the sky in twisted, grotesque patterns.

Finally, they make it to the research station. There’s an angaran researcher by the name of Kiiran Dals who tells them about the research team caught in the Remnant stasis field. By this point, the angara on Havarl seem to have some sort of rudimentary translation program derived from the one developed by Jaal and Ryder, but it’s not quite good enough. Snippets of Shelesh fall through the cracks, and Jaal has to step in and translate for half of the conversation. 

Ryder cracks her knuckles — a sound that startles Kiiran Dals — and sighs, “We’ve got our work cut out for us again, huh?” Jaal leans over to reassure Kiiran Dals before he guides Ryder out of the room with one large hand flat against the small of her back. Ryder glances up at Jaal, but his gaze remains directed forward. She’s not sure if the gesture means anything to the angara who seem to treat touch as something natural. For her, this feels strangely intimate, and despite the humid heat, she shivers. 

Jaal notices the shake and asks, “Are you cold?”

“Far from it,” Ryder snorts, trying to cover up her momentary lapse. “I’m sweating so much.”

“Sweat?” Jaal asks. 

“Sweating, also known as perspiration, is a method of thermoregulation in humans, and it is achieved by the secretion of fluids from the sweat glands within their skin,” SAM answers. “Evaporation of the fluid — known as sweat — has a cooling effect.”

“Ah, we do not have that kind of function within our bodies,” Jaal says with a small laugh. “We flush a deeper blue and we use our electricity to channel the heat out of our bodies if it gets too hot. No water, none of this sweat as you call it.”

“Convenient,” Ryder puffs out as she wipes the sweat from her brow. “I’d rather spark up a little more than be drenched with sweat.”

They start trekking through the undergrowth towards an area that Jaal calls “the Central Wilds.” Aptly named, in Ryder’s opinion. It’s certainly wild. She’s already fought off a number of mutated animals within the undergrowth. Jaal looks delighted to be back home through. Vetra makes the mistake of asking how many people Jaal had in his family, and Jaal starts rattling off names of every single member of his family within his daar. Then, he lists off various family members that don’t necessarily live within his daar but live on other daars or planets instead. Ryder can’t fathom something like this, but now, she thinks she might understand why Jaal always looked so horrified whenever she talked about her small — mostly dead — family. 

Jaal looks at Ryder with hesitation flickering in an erratic, electric pattern along the folds of his face. He slows down as he searches for words, but he finally says, “I could take you to meet them. My family, that is.”

Ryder blinks and exchanges a look with Vetra. She’s not well-versed enough in angaran culture to know what introducing someone to your family means, but considering that she’s an alien, Ryder thinks this might mean more than what she could possibly fathom. But for now, she chooses honesty as she says, “I’d like that.”

“Truly?” Jaal asks. 

“Have I ever lied to you?” Ryder returns. “Yes, I’d love to meet them if you ever want to introduce me to them.”

“You lied about being a good driver,” Jaal points out. He chuckles at how Ryder’s expression immediately twists into miffed annoyance, but he sobers as he says, “And yes, I would be proud to introduce you to my family. Never doubt that, Ryder.”

Then, Jaal cocks his head towards the left and stills. Ryder doesn’t notice until he reaches out to grab her wrist. He lifts his hand up and imitates an Alliance symbols she taught him.  _ Wait, _ he signals. Ryder sends a brief ping to Vetra, and she stills as well, silent and motionless amidst the greenery. Jaal slowly moves, prowling and moving past the plants with an impressive level of stealth. Then, he twists his hand into the signal for  _ stay. _ It’s slightly different considering that he has fused fingers compared to Ryder’s limber set of five, but Ryder complies and sends the  _ stay _ signal to Vetra along their comm line. 

He moves out of the undergrowth and calls out, “Pasana?” 

A voice replies, “Jaal?” Even across her translator, she can hear the wariness in the new angara’s tone. It’s lighter and higher in pitch compared to Jaal’s, so Ryder assumes it’s a female angara. “I haven’t seen you on Havarl ever since you won the drawing for Aya,” she continues.

“I had some Resistance business here,” Jaal evenly says. 

Ryder can’t see the angara, but she can hear the shift of the leaves as Pasana suspiciously asks, “Does this have anything to do with the new aliens in our cluster? We haven’t had Resistance members here on actual objectives, and I heard that some landed on Aya and then left with Resistance approval. Disgusting.”

“It’s not disgusting,” Jaal chides. “It means that we are working together to defeat the kett.”

Ryder can smell the distinct, electric sizzle of ozone on the air as Pasana spits, “You’re blind, Jaal. We don’t need any more aliens in the cluster. It would be better to have them all killed instead.”

Jaal falls silent, but after a beat of silence, he quietly asks, “Pasana, have you joined the Roekaar?”

Ryder exchanges a look with Vetra. Vetra’s damn good at this quiet thing, actually. Her body doesn’t move at all, and her dark armor blends in well with the mutated plants. Only the movement of her eyes lets Ryder know that Vetra’s looking at her now. Ryder glances down at her white and blue Initiative armor and wishes she had the foresight to wear her darker pair.

“And what about it?” Pasana challenges. “Akksul’s doing more for us and has the right vision compared to a half-cooked idiot like Evfra who’s bent low enough to accept help from  _ aliens.” _

“Pasana, Evfra hasn’t accepted anything from them yet,” Jaal tries in what Ryder thinks is meant to be a soothing tone. “We had them enclosed in our facilities and tested thoroughly before releasing them and seeing if they can earn our trust.”

“Should’ve kept them there or euthanized them while you had the chance,” Pasana snaps. The scent of ozone grows stronger, and the sound of her voice and the rustle of leaves grows louder until suddenly, Ryder finds herself face to face with another angara. Her skin is tinted lavender, but her eyes are the classic angaran blue. Her eyes dilate — the blackness widening in the space of the blue — and the folds of her face glow white-hot. The scent of sour ozone grows stronger, and Pasana's face twists into a nasty grimace.  _ “Skutt,” _ Pasana hisses when she sees Ryder. She whirls around to face Jaal who follows after and snarls, “You brought  _ vesagara  _ here. You  _ traitor.” _

“I am not the traitor here,” Jaal returns. He steps between Pasana and Ryder and says, “She is here under my protection. Hurt her, and you risk the wrath of the Resistance. Besides, you know that the Roekaar are officially disavowed from the Resistance.”

“I don’t see Evfra doing anything about it,” Pasana retorts. “If anything, I’d say that we’re more effective than the Resistance. A dead alien is better than one that’s alive. I can’t believe you, Jaal.”

“And I can’t believe you either,” Jaal sighs. “I do not want to fight you, Pasana. Leave us and we’ll leave you be.”

“I don’t think so,” Pasana says. Her lips curl in, covering her teeth, and the folds of her face flare outward and glow with pent-up electricity.

Behind Jaal, Ryder sees Pasana’s hand move towards her belt. That’s all Ryder sees before Jaal whirls around and tugs Ryder into a tight embrace. There’s a single shout — undoubtedly Vetra’s voice — and then, there’s a bang from a gun. The bullet pings off harmlessly off Jaal’s armor, but now, adrenaline hurtles through Ryder’s veins and sets her heart drumming with fear. “Jaal,” she whispers, voice shaky and scared.

“I am alright,” Jaal tells her. He keeps her safely in his embrace before he snaps out, “Pasana!” 

Ryder can barely see Pasana, but she does hear the angara say, “You’ve sunk too low, Jaal. The Roekaar will hear about this.” She turns, and Ryder can hear the plants rustle as Pasana leaves. 

Ryder shuts her eyes, trying to keep herself from shivering, but soon, she feels Jaal rub her shoulders. Then, she feels Vetra’s three-fingered hands carefully check her armor over for any damage. Ryder opens her eyes to say, “I’m fine. Jaal?” She can't keep her voice from being tremulous and small.

Jaal slowly lets Ryder go but keeps one hand on her shoulder as he says, “I’m fine as well. My shields will recover.”

“You’re going to want to fix that aboard the Tempest though,” Vetra says with a click of her mandibles. “Cora got her shield capacitors shot through, and they didn’t recover as well as we originally thought.”

“I can make it to the Remnant site,” Jaal insists. There's a stubborn glint to his eyes and a set to his mouth that lets Ryder know that he's not going to budge on this. “That was an angaran bullet shot at angaran shields. Your technology is different than ours. We know how to protect ourselves from our own.”

Ryder checks the site over, and like Jaal said, she can see his shields slowly start to reknit themselves together over the bullet shock. She glances up at him and asks, “Who was that?”

“What was she talking about?” Vetra adds. “She doesn’t seem happy about us being here.”

“Pasana is a childhood friend from the neighbouring daar,” Jaal says with a too-heavy sigh. The folds of his face go slack with disappointment, and the electric light softly glowing in his skin starts to dim. “It appears as though she’s joined the Roekaar. It’s a sect that broke off from the Resistance. They are, ah, vehemently opposed to any alien whether they be kett or…”

“Or us,” Ryder finishes. She glances over at Vetra and then looks back at Jaal. “One more question,” she says. “What does  _ vesagara _ mean?” 

Jaal’s face dims even more and he says, “It is… A derogative term.”

“Yeah, I’ve been called shithead before,” Ryder says. She jerks her thumb over to Vetra and says, “Humans and turians used to call each other terrible things during the First Contact War. Milky Way history, I’ll tell you more on the Tempest, but that doesn’t faze me. What does it mean?”

“Literally, it means uprooted people. Exile is a simplistic way of terming it,” Jaal says with a shake of his head. “It is a terrible term for our people. To be uprooted means to be forsaken by family, to be completely and utterly removed from everything that you know, to lose the very part of yourself that makes you whole. It is…” Jaal shudders. “Horrible.”

Ryder can’t quite grasp the cultural context of the term, and she’s sure it’s terribly derogatory in Shelesh. She still can’t help but feel like it’s too apt. Being forsaken by family? Check, considering that two are dead and the last one is comatose. Removed from everything that you know? Check by 600 years’ worth of time and distance. Losing yourself? Ryder doesn’t quite know if she’s meeting that requirement, but filling the role of Pathfinder has definitely forced her to be more than who she used to be. No space for the person that was Sara, only the person that was Ryder. 

She pats Jaal’s shoulder and says, “I don’t really give a shit about it if that makes you feel any better.” 

Vetra shrugs, “I’ve been called worse things. You learn to let some words slide after working a couple jobs on Omega. Hurts more when it’s in your own language, I think.”

Jaal purses his lips into a thin line before he says, “No, it does not make me feel any better, but I will do my best to ignore it. Either way, you should watch out for the Roekaar. I have formal permission from Evfra to attack with adequate force to defend ourselves, but we cannot hurt other angara without good reason.”

“Of course,” Ryder assures him. “We’ll try to keep out of the Roekaar’s way as much as possible. I’ll keep my charges for the wild animals and rogue Remnant drones instead.”

“Thank you,” Jaal exhales out, quiet and slow. “I appreciate it. Truly.”

Vetra sighs and shoulders her gun before she checks the map once more. “On the bright side, we’re getting close,” she says with a twitch of her bony jaws. “Hopefully, we’ll run into less Roekaar.”

“Pasaba will alert the rest, no doubt,” Jaal mutters.

“I guess they’ll shoot first, ask questions later?” Ryder says with a curl of her lip. Jaal nods, and with that, they don’t speak of it anymore. The matter still lies heavy on Ryder’s shoulders. Rationally, she knows that she can’t make every angara in the cluster amicable to the idea of peace. Hell, she was trapped on Aya a few months ago. Jaal still hasn’t told her the full details of her temporary incarceration, but Ryder suspects that she would’ve been euthanized if worse came to worse. Still, she can’t help but feel like she’s done something wrong, some sort of missed step in first contact procedures, to merit a disaster like this. The Roekaar could pose a significant obstacle to relations with the angara as well as a danger to any of the species aboard the Nexus.

Ryder shakes her head. She doesn’t want to think about that now. She has her objectives — free the scientists — and she’ll be damned if she doesn’t fulfill them. Instead of debating with herself on the Roekaar topic, Ryder focuses on following Jaal through the underbrush. There are a few Remnant to take care of on the way there, but compared to the Roekaar or the kett, they’re easy pickings for Vetra and Jaal. Ryder just charges the closest one and keeps out of their sight-lines.

She sees the monolith long before they approach it though. It rises over the landscape and the tree line, overlooking the vast, mutated undergrowth of the wilds, in the smooth, familiar lines that Ryder has learned to associate with the Remnant technology that pockmarks the whole of the cluster. Vetra checks the map as well as the notes Kiiran gave them and says, “They should be towards the back of the monolith. Let’s circle around towards there. I’ve set up a marker on our map so you should all be able to see it.”

“Fantastic,” Ryder says. “I’ll keep my scanner on as we progress, so let me know if there’s anything worth seeing, SAM.”

“Understood, Pathfinder,” SAM says. His modulated voice is quieter than usual though, and Ryder takes the cue and slips down low by the underbrush. She’s never been a fan of sneaking — infiltration is something her brother was better at than her — but she tries to mimic what she remembers from training and from her brother.  Vetra and Jaal follow suit, and out of the three, Vetra is best by far. She sluices through the shadows and the plants with a kind of grace that makes it looks easy. Ryder tries to imitate her, but then, she almost slips on a rock that’s slicked over with rain and dew. Thankfully, Jaal catches her before she falls on her face, and his strong grip on her arm helps her regain her balance. She mutters out a soft thanks, and in return, Jaal pats her shoulder.

Then, they’re at the back of the monolith, and amidst the smooth planes of the monolith’s structure, Ryder can see angaran figures, frozen perfectly in place. Ryder carefully flashes her scanner up and asks, “Is it okay for me to walk in or should I wait?”

“Based on previous encounter with Remnant structures and my current algorithm for Remnant technology, there is a 90% chance of complete safety,” SAM replies. 

Ryder raises an eyebrow and asks, “What about that last ten percent? Should I be worried about that?”

SAM doesn’t miss a beat when he replies, “That has never stopped you before, Pathfinder.”

Vetra and Jaal laugh out loud at that, and Ryder grumbles, “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, all of you.” She straightens her shoulders and shakes out some of the soreness from sneaking through the jungle just before she steps through. Immediately, she can feel a strange kind of buzz in the air — like a distant yet oh-so-close song resonating down to the marrow of her bones — and she clenches her teeth against the foreign sensation. She makes sure to keep her scanner up as she warily eyes the frozen scientists. 

When she circles around to face them, she sees their faces still in the same expression, folds of skin still glowing with a constant flow of electricity, and hands outstretched in a permanent pose. The only thing that doesn’t move is the shift of their eyes, and Ryder feels a strange prickle down her spine when she notices the way every single pair of eyes immediately track her movements. Ryder tests the air by stretching her hands out and moving them around in a circle. “Maybe it’s because I’m not angaran,” she muses. She clicks open the main comm and repeats, “Jaal, be careful. Don’t step inside until we’re sure that it’s safe. It might react only to the angara.”

When Jaal answers with an affirmative, Ryder takes the first step towards the angara. _ “Paavoa,” _ she carefully says, trying to wrap her tongue around the Shelesh again.  _ “Savaasa. Vas daarasav pekala sa. _ Trust me. I’m here to help.”

SAM sends a soft ping, and Ryder glances down at her omnitool. “Like Kiiran Dals said, the neural patterns of these angaran scientists mimic that of deep sleep. Metabolism and other general body functions are incredibly slowed, and their heart rate is below a normal rate for angara,” SAM starts off. “I do not know if your words will reach them despite their eyes. In addition, it appears you will need to find two glyphs to unlock the seal on the field, Pathfinder.” 

Ryder clicks on the orange light from her scanner and starts sweeping the light over the columns. However, she accidentally wakes up a few Remnant bots. “Oh no,” she breathes out, but then, a shot rings out, clear and true. It’s the familiar sound of Jaal’s Lanat, and the first bot crashes to the ground in shattered pieces of circuitry and plating. 

“We’ll keep an eye on you,” Vetra says into the comm. “Keep going.” 

“Thanks,” Ryder says before she leaps over one flattened ridge of rock. She keeps the light on as she weaves in and out by the Remnant architecture. Gunshots and the cybernetic clicking of the Remnant weave together into a constant cacophony in the background. Still, she manages to glimpse the glyphs with the help of her scanner. The first glyph gleams right by the main console, but the second glyph takes a little longer to find. She ends up finding it on a pillar but almost gets hit in the face by a Remnant nullifier bot though. Ryder slams a fist coated over with biotic energy in retaliation, and she smiles when she hears the satisfying crack and splinter of metal.

While she's busy doing that, SAM continues to make her omnitool flash orange against the sides of the Remnant metal as he analyzes the glyphs she's found. By this point, the glyphs are linked together, and SAM’s had enough time to compare them with the standard Shelesh alphabet that Jaal’s inputted in and the old Remnant tech they’ve encountered. “They appear to hold meanings similar to ‘magnitude’ and ‘verdurous,’ Pathfinder,” SAM says. “Verdurous means freshly green, much like the adjective, verdant. It also refers to flourishing vegetation.”

“I know what verdurous means, SAM,” Ryder retorts as she starts working on the console. She doesn't.

SAM immediately responds back by saying, “No, you do not, Pathfinder.”

Now, Jaal’s the first one to snort, and Ryder glares into the distance. This is when she wishes SAM wasn’t stuck inside her brain as an implant. That way, she could glare at him with all the force she could muster up. She logs the glyphs in though, and she wonders if these glyphs are part of the solution to fixing Havarl. After all, the planet was in a rather verdurous flux of a magnitude neither she nor the angara had ever seen before.  Ryder hems and haws over the puzzle, but when she slots the last piece in, the monolith lets out a long, harmonious tone. Slowly, the air starts to coalesce into multiple strands of light that weave in and out of the space enclosed by the monolith. Ryder stares in awe at what she sees in front of her, and soon, she hears the sounds of footsteps. Vetra and Jaal are by her side, marveling at the light just as she does. 

The light brushes over the scientists, and slowly, as the light fades out, the first scientist slowly starts to move their limbs. “Reading off the monitors and—” the first angara breaks off when he sees them. “Skutt! Skutting stars, what?! Who are you?”

Ryder can’t help but notice he has the same accent as Jaal, and his voice dips and rises in the same places that Jaal’s voice would. Perhaps this is the accent predominant to this area of Havarl compared to the dialects of Voeld and Aya. Still, she shakes her head and focuses herself to the task at hand.  _ “Paavoa,” _   Ryder repeats.  _ “Vas daarasav pekala sa.” _ She looks over to Jaal and says in English, “I’m assuming that they’re not going to have the translator program.”

Jaal grimly nods and steps forward. “Torvar, it’s me, Jaal,” he says. “Do none of you remember getting frozen?”

“Frozen?” Torvar dimly repeats. The sides of his face flex inward, and a soft electric glow starts to pulse by his veins. “No, I don’t — All I remember is that we were working on analyzing the monolith and then you appeared.”

“A dream,” another angara blurts out. Ryder looks over to her, and the angara says, “I think I saw you in a dream. A alien that walked on strange, straight legs that tried to speak to me.” She squints at Ryder’s legs and says, “How can you even walk on those? Does that not break your bones or snap your muscles?”

Ryder flexes a leg out and wiggles her foot around before she says,  _ “Nai.” _ That was a solid nope. She has the same sentiments about other alien legs too. She doesn’t understand how alien species like the angara or the quarians or even turians can walk around jointed, bent legs like that. She supposes that’s all the work of nature and evolution though. To each their own.

“You should go back to Pelaav,” Jaal says. “Kiiran is waiting for you.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Torvar says. He winces, and the electric glow along his skin pulses bright-hot before it dies down. “I feel a head-splitter coming on,” he mutters. The scientists start to gather up their materials and tools before heading out.

Jaal, however, goes over to the console and runs a gentle touch down the smooth, metal sides. “Impressive,” he says. “I know you told me about your work on the vault on Eos, but I never really believed you.”

“Seeing is believing, I guess,” Ryder replies. She tips her head up to stare at the cyan light running through the circuitry of the monolith. “It still amazes  _ me _ sometimes, and I’m the one who’s doing the grunt work.”

“Grunt work?” Jaal repeats.

“Grunt work: an expression used to describe thankless and menial work,” SAM answers for Ryder. “It can also refer to jobs that lack glamour and prestige or are boring and repetitive.”

“I think this is far from grunt work though,” Jaal says, confusion making his bioelectric field snap and crackle. "You are making ancient history come alive under your touch, something that our scientists have barely been able to manage. You find new worlds and forge new paths for your people. How is this grunt work?"

“If anything,” Vetra chimes in. “Following after Ryder and having to ride in the Nomad when she drives is the real grunt work here.” Ryder gives her a good glare. Today just seems to be the day to tease the Pathfinder. Perhaps they can make a holiday out of it. Make Fun Of Ryder Day, maybe.

Jaal laughs and flaps his hands with agreement. When he gains enough breath after laughing, he says, “We should check in with Kiiran before we leave, and I will also notify Evfra of the new developments. After that, I think you can reasonably leave Havarl.” He averts his gaze and rubs his hands awkwardly together. “But before we leave, I would like to meet my family.”

“Of course,” Ryder immediately says. “I would never stop you. Go right ahead. It would be good for everyone else to have a quick break from work too.”

“Not that most of them will ever stop working,” Vetra snorts. “If Suvi gets a day off, she’s just going to strap on some armor and go out to get some more rock samples herself.”

“God, I hope she doesn’t lick them. After what Jaal said about that fungal slime…” Ryder trails off with a slight shudder. She'll have to send a note out to the crew, warning them of the vegetation and the fungal smile.

Jaal smiles — a crooked kind of smile that’s been the most genuine that she’s seen from him thus far — and says, “Thank you, Sara.”

Ryder doesn't miss the way he uses her name, all careful and gentle along the edges of his tone. It makes her heart feel like it's leaping, and she clenches down on the emotion with an iron fist.  _Not the time, Ryder,_ she chides herself.  Ryder opens her mouth to reply something back that’s likely to be awkward.

But before she can say anything, Jaal says, “And I’d like you to accompany me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> translations:  
>  **Savaasa.** — “Trust me”   
> based on previously established vocabulary (savaas — to trust)  
>  **Vas daarasav pekala sa.** — “I’m here to help”  
> based on the word “daar”, which means village, and meant to imply that help comes a multitude of people (specifically inspired by the saying, “it takes a village to raise a child”). also, “daar” literally means “rock” so this could also be interpreted to mean that help provides a solid rock foundation for another person.  
>  **Nai** — “no”  
> can be conjugated to different variations on the word, all with different cultural meanings and intensities, especially when accompanied by the standard angaran bioelectric signals (difficult for non-angara to grasp and replicate though)
> 
> it's 3 am rn, but new chapter is DONE, thank god. sorry about such a late update! i've been traveling for the past month, and it's been hard to get a hold on good wifi and actual time to write. thanks for your patience! as always, i would love to hear your thoughts on the new chapter in the comments + i'll do my best to finish the next chapter soon! <3


	17. beauty blooming

Ryder has no idea what to do. 

She’s standing outside the door of Jaal’s house, and Jaal’s veritably bouncing with excitement. She knows that family is a Big Thing — and yes, big enough to be capitalized — to the angara, but she doesn’t really know what kind of relevance introducing someone to family would be. Would it be a simple, normalized thing or is this some sort of large ordeal? Frankly, she has no frame of reference for this but silently prays to any god in the universe willing to listen. _Don’t let me fuck this up,_ she thinks, true and genuine in the worst way possible. She doesn’t want to embarrass Jaal nor does she want to embarrass herself or the Initiative.

Jaal keeps talking, and no doubt, he’s excited. He loves his family so much, and she can see it in the way his eyes gleam with a certain starry brightness when he talks about them. Ryder considers her own family for a moment and quietly realizes that she doesn’t have anything like this to come back to. Both of her parents were dead, and any vestige of a home was left far behind in the Milky Way. She decides that she’d be over the moon if Scott woke up though. The same kind of excitement in Jaal would probably be the same kind of excitement lighting her up in that theoretical scenario. 

Ryder shakes her head a bit to clear her head and exhales out to try and calm herself. She tries to give herself a little mental pep talk, but SAM beats her to it when he says, “Pathfinder, your cortisol levels are rising rapidly, indicating stress placed on your mental state. Do you require assistance?”

“I’m fine, SAM,” Ryder hisses under her breath. Jaal looks at her with a keen eye, and Ryder just _knows_ that he thinks that there’s something wrong with her. Hopefully, the rest of his family doesn’t think the same thing.

Ryder twists her hands behind her back and twiddles her thumbs as she waits for the door to open. Somehow, she’s still startled when the door finally moves though. She startles forward at the sight of an angara standing in the space of the door frame, and for a brief second, she can see a flicker of fear in the angara’s face. Ryder’s seen enough angara to know what that pure emotion looks like, especially in a species so emotive like the angara. 

However, the angara swallows her fear, and her electric field crackles silver-bright against the edges of Ryder’s dim biotic sense. She opens her arms wide and says, “Oh, Jaal, my son! And this, _paavoa_ , visitor, _paavoa.”_

The gesture she makes is strange, almost like the traditional greeting that Ryder’s seen other angara with one arm out. This almost looks like the angara is waiting for a hug, and Ryder’s not sure what to do. She hazards a glance over to Jaal who looks delighted at the sight of his true mother, and Ryder figures that she might as well. She goes in for a hug and wraps her arms around Jaal’s mother. “It’s nice to meet you,” she says. “I’ve heard so much about you.” 

Ryder prays that her nervousness doesn’t bleed through to her voice. Jaal’s mother tenses for another moment against Ryder’s touch, but soon, she melts and pulls Ryder in for a tighter hug with a delighted little laugh. “Oh, I wasn’t expecting that,” she chuckles when she pulls back. She examines Ryder’s face carefully before she looks over at Jaal. “I like her already.”

“Was that not supposed to be a sign for a hug?” Ryder hisses to Jaal.

Jaal only shrugs, but he looks so happy to be here and in the moment. He gestures over to his mother and says, “Ryder, I want you to meet my true mother, Sahuna Ama Darav.” 

“A pleasure to meet you, Pathfinder. Jaal’s already told me so much about you. I know he admires you very much,” Sahuna tells her. She looks over at Jaal and veritably preens as she says, “He’s my favorite. Smart, loyal, kind, a great shot, writes poetry, sews.” 

Jaal cuts her off there and grumbles, “Mother…”

Ryder wheels around to stares at him and asks, “You know how to sew? You write _poetry?”_ Frankly, she should have seen the poet thing coming but sewing? Her mind latches onto something else Sahuna said as well. The part about admiring her “very much.” She doesn't know why Jaal would, but the mere thought of that sends a thrill down her spine.

Before Jaal can answer, Sahuna hesitantly says, “Can she understand us? You two built the translator device together, did you not?”

“Yes, Mother, we did,” Jaal replies. He taps his visor and says, “I have it. When the scientists on Aya finalize the software, then we can start sending it out to planets like Havarl and Voeld.” 

“Good, good,” Sahuna hums. She looks over at Ryder, and the sides of her face dimly light up. “It would be a shame to not have a good conversation with this Pathfinder of yours.”

“She is not _mine_ , Mother,” Jaal mumbles. By now, his skin’s a deeper purple, and Ryder has to choke down her laughter.

Sahuna chuckles again, but she offers no other response to that. Instead, she taps her son’s shoulder twice and pulls him into a tight hug before she brushes one pad of her finger down his forehead and the bridge of his flattened nose. “Stay strong and clear,” she says softly. “I have a Resistance meeting to go to right now, but will you be here at the end of the evening?” 

Jaal glances back at Ryder, and Ryder hurries to say, “Of course. The Tempest will be docked on Havarl all night. You’re formally on shore leave, Jaal.”

“Thank you,” Jaal sighs out. He looks over to his mother again, and his face briefly flares with electric sparks. His mother squeezes his hands one last time before she leaves.

Sahuna takes a quick moment to tap Ryder’s shoulder and to give her the traditional one-armed gesture Ryder’s seen other angara use. “I will look forward to talking more with you, Pathfinder,” she says. “If not tonight, then later when the stars give us enough time. Stay strong, Pathfinder, and clear.” 

Ryder mimics the same gesture and repeats back, “Stay strong and clear.” 

Sahuna cocks her head at the sound of her words, and Ryder remembers that most of Havarl still doesn’t have the translation program. The meaning of her words seem to sink in though because Sahuna leaves with a brighter smile. 

They move on through the door, but Jaal catches her by the wrist. “Don’t worry about what my mother said,” he says, words spilling off his tongue in a hurry. He hesitates once more before he cracks a self-deprecating smile and says, “And every child is her favorite.” 

Ryder blinks at that, but Jaal wastes no time as he leads her into his home. The rooms are all cordoned off with a complicated number of doors, and more importantly, the entire home is filled with so many angara. Ryder can’t even fathom a family the size of this. The coloration of the angara all vary from blues to purples, but the mottled marks along their bodies and the pattern of the electric signals along the folds of their face are all similar to Jaal’s.

Jaal rubs his hands together and sends one long blast of electric sparks into the air. Ryder can feel it sizzle against the edges of her senses, and the hair on her skin stands up on end. Everyone in the current room stops, and Jaal proclaims loudly, “Everyone! This is Ryder.”

Even though Jaal’s mother welcomed her openly — or at least, what Ryder thinks is open and welcome — the rest of Jaal’s family watch her with some degree of wariness. They don’t stop her or frown at her, but she can still feel gazes pinpricking the back of her neck. They angle themselves towards Ryder, and she has no doubt that they could all take her down easily if she made a single wrong move. There is no word, no sound. Just the sight of angara blinking at her with wariness deep-set in their eyes. She only sees adults around, and she finds that strange. For a culture that values family and children so much, she hasn’t seen a single angaran child yet. 

But then, she hears a loud crashing noise to her left. Ryder stiffens and immediately wheels over to the left, hands up and ready to unleash her biotics should the worst come to happen. What happens is something that she doesn’t expect at all.

There’s a tiny angaran girl that’s managed to dive right between the legs of another angara and squeals with delight as she skids across the floor. Behind her, there are at least three other mothers trying to snatch up the child, but the girl dodges each attempt. She glances behind her and laughs, “You can’t catch me!”

The girl doesn’t see Ryder at all, and she collides into Ryder with enough force to knock her down. 

There’s an audible crackle of electricity from everyone around her. Ryder rubs the back of her head and winces at the pain. She’ll have bruises for sure. The angaran girl is on top of her, and as Ryder straightens up into a sitting position. She looks absolutely terrified, and the folds of her face are tightly drawn in towards her features. Her electricity field is sparking with too much energy, and it zaps her with a crackle. It saturates the thin edge of the biotic energy lying across Ryder’s skin and makes them pulse with the same flutter-beat tempo of the angaran child’s heart. Ryder winces again, and the slight motion makes the angaran child even more terrified. “Oh no,” she breathes out. “Please don’t kill me, alien.”

_“Paavoa,”_ Ryder tries. Evidently, it doesn’t work. She looks up at Jaal and asks, “Who’s this?” 

Jaal crouches down, bending his jointed legs down beneath him, as he breathes out, “Oh, Ninaae, what have you been up to?” 

“Hi, _bosora_ Jaal,” the child says plaintively. 

Ryder assumes her name is Ninaae, but the second term is foreign to her. _“Bosora?_ What does that mean?” she asks.

Jaal considers the question for a moment before answering, “A term for sibling in your language. Perhaps it doesn’t translate over well since I used the noun form in the program rather than the title that we typically refer to others with. I’ll add it in when we return to the Tempest.” 

Ryder glances over to the angaran girl and muses, “Ninaae, huh?”

Ninaae stares at Ryder for a long time before she scoots closer to Jaal with her gaze still firmly on Ryder. “She said my name, bosora. Is that good or bad?” she whispers loudly.

“Here, let me set my translation program to play out loud,” Jaal says as he pulls off his visor. The little earbud tucked right behind the folds of his face remains there, but he fumbles with the visor for a while. Ryder can’t really tell what he’s doing, but finally, he says, “Ryder, say something.”

“Hello?” Ryder says with a touch of confusion.

However, the visor beeps a soft green and says, _“Paavoa.”_ It’s only a few seconds behind the syllables that Ryder said, but it’s enough to make Ninaae squeal with delight.

“Oh, that’s so cool!” she says as her electric field spreads out wide and zaps Ryder once more.

“So, that thing is just going to translate out loud for everyone to hear?” Ryder asks. “Handy speaker system in that visor, huh.” The visor repeats everything she said in standard Shelesh with a slight delay. It’s still there though. Ryder taps her chin and says, “Wait, if you had that, why didn’t you use it in Voeld or Havarl?”

Jaal sheepishly says, “I was working on it. It still wasn’t quite perfect, and it still isn’t. You can hear the delay. The one I have that twists into my ear has almost complete word for word feedback, but the system I installed into my music program on my visor has delays.”

“You have a music program on your visor?” Ryder asks with disbelief.

Jaal shrugs, “Listening to the national anthem while shooting kett heads is very invigorating.”

“That sounds concerning rather than invigorating.”

Ninaae interrupts them both by bouncing towards Ryder and exclaiming, “This is so cool!!! _Bosora_ Jaal is so smart! Hi, I’m Ninaae! You’re the Pathfinder! is your name also Pathfinder? What is the strange hat on your head with all the strands? Does it hurt to breathe if your nose is shaped like that? Is that even your nose? What was that weird _taosovos_ you had on your skin? Why is it skin-colored?”

Ryder blinks at the sheer amount of words that spill out of Ninaae. And she thought _she_ talked a lot. Jaal notices the brief panic flickering across Ryder’s face and steps in to say, “Ninaae, slow down.”

“But _bosora_ Jaaaaaaaaal!” Ninaae whines. “I wanna know! The alien looks so strange!” She pauses after that last sentence, and the soft bioelectric light illuminating the sides of her face dim. “Does she understand me, _bosora_ Jaal?”

“Hello there,” Ryder decides to say. “It’s nice to meet you, Ninaae. My name isn’t Pathfinder, that’s just my title. You can call me Ryder.” She lifts up a few strands of hair and taps her nose as she continues, “The thing on my head is called hair. It’s not a hat. It just grows out of my head. No, it doesn’t hurt to breathe, and yes, this is my nose.” 

“Oh no, she _did_ understand me,” Ninaae whispers. She looks absolutely horrified, and the dim light from her electric field goes completely out.

Ryder shrugs and replies, “I don’t mind it though. No worries. Jaal here called me _vehshaanan_ after I tried to explain to him what my hair was.”

Ninaae claps her hand over her mouth while Jaal hurries to say, “No, nothing like that ever happened, Ninaae.” He gives Ryder a withering glare after he says it too. Ryder can’t help but laugh, and Ninaae joins in.

Ninaae responds by gasping, “ _Bosora_ Jaal, you’ve been _naughty."_   She grins widely and drums her fused fingers against the sides of her facial folds to make them light up even more before she says in a sing-song voice, "You have to put in a sorry slip for Mother Kiraasa’s jar now.” 

“Mother Kiraasa still has a bad word jar?” Jaal asks with a fair degree of disbelief.

Another angaran woman shoulders through the crowd beginning to congregate in this living room space and calls out, “Yes, I do, Jaal! And yes, you will be putting in a sorry slip in my jar before you leave today! We do not say such words in front of children or guests like that.”

Ryder assumes that’s Kiraasa because Jaal immediately shuts up and dips his head into a slight bow. Ryder only laughs harder. Ninaae bounces up and down and points both hands, palm down, at Jaal. “ _Bosora_ Jaal got into trouble,” she sings out. 

There are two more angaran children clinging to Kiraasa’s legs, and they both stare with wide, round eyes at Ryder. Ryder offers up a little wave and then extends her arm out into an angaran greeting. Their folds glow with electric light, and they let go of Kiraasa to go crashing into Ryder. The sheer force of the impact knocks her down, but she hears them squeal, “The alien isn’t going to kill us! This is so cool!”

Electricity zaps against her skin sharply, and Ryder lets out a soft yelp. Without even thinking about it, her biotics flare up and form a protective layer on her skin. Soft purple and blue dances over her skin and reacts with the electricity to form little bubbles of frequencies that visibly show up against the light. One child pulls back from Ryder and stares at her before he glances back at Kiraasa and cries out, “Mother, she has _taosovos!_ ”

“You do?” Ninaae gasps. “This is so cool!” Ryder gets up and tries to brush the dust off her thighs, but then, she sees Ninaae running for her. She tackles Ryder as well, and Ryder tries to catch her in her arms. Ryder still stumbles back from the impact, but now, Ninaae’s electric field bursts sharply against her biotics. She doesn’t need SAM’s visual interface to know that this signal means happiness. 

Now, all the other angara surge forward, and when everyone starts speaking, it’s hard for Ryder to keep up. At some points, the translation program fails to keep track of every single voice, so it bleeds into a mix of Shelesh at the very edges of her senses. Ryder’s overwhelmed, but the thing that keeps her grounded is Jaal right by her side, keeping all the others at bay. The children, however, pay no attention to Jaal and swarm her. More pour out from the halls, and Ryder suspects that they were all hiding there to listen in and watch the new alien secretly. Ryder honestly doesn’t mind that. She probably would’ve done the same thing in their case. 

They start launching a series of different signals, and they laugh and whoop with glee when their signals translate into a series of different colors. Most of them are signals of happiness, and Ryder’s biotics amplifies them right back at them with visual accompaniment. Even some angaran adults hesitantly reach out one hand to brush them across the edge of Ryder’s aura. Their own signal answers back, reflected back in a perfect mirror image. 

Ryder searches for Jaal, and when she finds him again, she gives him a wide grin. This isn’t what she expected, but she’s having fun. Ninaae tugs at her hand, so Ryder impulsively swings her up into her arms. Ninaae’s a lot heavier than what she looks like, but Ryder still swings her into a circle like her father did for her so many years ago on the Citadel. When Ryder sets Ninaae back down, there are other children who now crowd around Ryder, asking for the same thing. Ryder looks up at Jaal again, searching for permission, but instead, she sees something in his eyes soften at the sight of her. Ryder’s not sure why, but she figures that it’s acceptable. No one’s trying to actively stop her either.

She’s never seen angaran children before now, but they’re like any other child she’s ever met back in the Milky Way. They love fun, and although their signals sometimes arc through her biotic field too sharply, Ryder starts manipulating her own biotics to become thicker in the places that the children want to touch. Besides, she always has medi-gel in a small canister inside her omnitool plus stacks of medi-gel back on the Tempest. Half the time, they're batting at her hair anyways which takes the least amount of damage from the electric shocks. Other than that, they concentrate on her hands too. The concept of five separate fingers seems entirely novel to them.

Ryder swings one last child up, but she underestimates the weight and goes careening to the side. She still keeps the child up, but she crashes into Jaal’s shoulder. His own electric signal sparks through her biotic field, and although she can feel that it’s small and barely there, her biotics flare up and amplify it to an unprecedented degree.

The purple stretches and thins into a blue that verges onto white before it expands outward into a radiant, sunset-colored corona. Pink and blue dance on the edge of her biotics while the central layer, closest to her skin, turns lavender mottled with white. A deeper purple marbles the edge between the pink and lavender, and wisps of white filter through her biotics. Ryder looks down at her skin with awe and looks up to see that Jaal is flushing deep purple. Everyone is silent, including the children, and their eyes are solely on Ryder. 

Ryder looks down at her biotics again, and although she can’t quite put her finger on it, she feels warm and safe as she’s ensconced in the center of this light show. Her biotics bloom outward with the warmth, and the signal starts to match the rhythm of her heart. It’s not quite in tune with her own, but slowly, ever so slowly, it starts to beat in time. Ryder wonders what it is, but then, SAM says quietly, so quietly that only she can hear, “Pathfinder, this is the only signal that Jaal Ama Darav has not translated for us in the making of the program.”

Ryder hesitates. After the events on Voeld, Aya seems so long ago, but she can remember the day when they identified signals and meanings together. Deep, dark navy blue for sadness, a sharp lightning strike of white for shock, a cold, seeping sea-green for disappointment, and a volatile, ravaging heat for fury. This was the only one that she never got the answer to, and frankly, Ryder admits that she forgot about this a long time ago. She’s just had other priorities on her mind. 

“Jaal,” Ryder says slowly and carefully. “What does that signal mean?” 

Ninaae opens her mouth to say something, but Jaal reaches out for her hand and tugs her towards his side. The colors flare out a little more against her biotics, but as Ryder starts to dismiss them, the colors start to fade out and dissipate in the air. “Later,” he replies. “I will tell you later. First, i will show you

Jaal reaches for her hand again and tugs her towards his side. “Come,” he tells her. “I’ll show you my room.” He hesitates and looks at the rest of his family, and Ryder does the same. She notices that there’s a mixture of expressions on their faces. She can’t visually see their electric signals anymore now that her biotics are gone, but she can see shock on some faces and some shit-eating grins on others. “I’ll explain,” Jaal assures her before he leads her away.

He shows her to a slim door, and when it swishes open, Ryder sees a narrow room. The bed and worktable takes up most of the space, and there’s a small woven mat on the floor between the table and the bed. The table is completely covered with various boxes labeled in neat Shelesh, and there are dismantled rifles laid out with their mechanics open and half-assembled. As for the bed, it looks small, especially when compared to Jaal’s bulk. Ryder looks around and thinks that it looks much like a dorm room from Grissom Academy: small and cramped. She supposes that a much younger Jaal would have fit the room better, but now, she and Jaal barely have enough space together. 

Jaal seems to pick up on that and chuckles, “It may be small, but when you live with so many family members, this is what happens. I mostly spend my time in the communal rooms, but some privacy can be good when I’m trying to work on a new project and siblings like Ninaae is too impatient to wait until I’m finished to play some sort of game.” He still looks fond when he says it though, and he steps slowly around the room with nostalgia suffusing his expression.

He side-steps around Ryder to sit on the bed, and he pats the space next to him. Ryder goes over to sit down next to him and almost laughs when she feels the squashiness of the bed. It reminds her of that first trust fall, oh so long ago, on Aya and the days of her imprisonment that slowly bled into friendship. Ryder revises that thought in her head. Phrasing it like that makes her think of Stockholm syndrome. Instead, she thinks of it as some sort of partnership now, a kind of first contact that had a rough start but then advanced into something better, something gentler, something _softer_. 

“Here, let me show you something else,” Jaal says. He reaches over for a small device and clicks it twice. The first click dims the light in the room, and the second click sends hundreds of stars illuminating themselves against the now-shadowed walls of the room. They’re made of countless dots of brilliant white light, and as seconds pass, slow tendrils of blue, purple, and red bloom like petals across the walls to reveal a miniature replica of what Ryder thinks is Andromeda. 

Ryder gapes at the beauty of them, and Jaal chuckles, “It’s not accurate by any means, but I  built this when I was younger. I dreamed of exploring the stars. Strange to think about how we are doing that right now.” He adjusts the settings on the small device and sends the stars revolving around them. Nebulas and comets start drifting past, and Ryder stretches up one hand to try and touch them. Her fingers pass harmlessly through the light, and she lets out a soft laugh of delight. 

One nebula passes by, painted in a vivid purple, and Jaal nudges her to say, “That looks like your biotics.”

Ryder looks over at him and suddenly realizes how close they are in this small room. She can see directly into Jaal’s eyes which are justifiably galaxies of their own, and instinctively, she holds her breath. But then, the old question pops up in her mind again, and she exhales out before she asks, “Speaking of biotics, what was that back there?”

“Show me your biotics again,” Jaal says instead of answering the question. Ryder squints at him, but she stretches one hand out towards him, wreathed in shimmering purple biotics. Jaal grasps her hand with a practiced ease now — so different from when they first met — and sends an electric signal surging through her aura with a certain sense of warmth and familiarity. 

Ryder inhales sharply at the sensation of it, and between the limited space between them, she watches a veritable nebula of colors unfurl between them, just like the artificial galaxy surrounding them. She looks up at Jaal, and the light illuminates his face and frames him so perfectly that she almost holds her breath again. “I did not tell you the first time I showed you this signal because I did not know what it meant myself,” Jaal begins, slow and steady. “I knew the simple meaning of it, yes, but I did not know what it meant for myself nor what it meant in regards to you.” 

He places his other hand over Ryder’s hand and makes the electric current even stronger, but even then, it’s nothing like the electrifying zap of anger or the slow, seething signal of disappointment. No, this is warm and gentle in every way possible. He continues, “As we’ve traveled together and worked together and gotten to know each other better, I have discovered more and more about you and about myself as well. I know that you are brave, smart, beautiful.” He snorts a little bit before the next part. “And impulsive and talkative and bolder than the rising sun. You are a storm in flight, Pathfinder Sara Ryder of the Initiative, but you also, above all else, make my heart sing.” 

He hesitates now. Ryder can see the way his breath hitches, the way he averts his eyes ever so slightly to the left, but then, he focuses completely back on Ryder. The signal grows the strongest it's ever been, and now, he says, “This is the signal —  the _taosovos,_ the light of our very hearts — that our people use for love, Sara. It has grown from admiration to friendship to this bright and beating thing of colors and light. This is the signal to tell you that I love you, Sara, and I want us to be together.”

_Oh,_ Ryder thinks. She stares back at him, eyes wide and heart beating out a thunder-quick pattern. She can’t believe it. She can’t believe someone like Jaal, someone so open and kind-hearted and gentle, is telling her that he _loves_ her. That he’s been in the process of loving her for this long. As she thinks about it more and more, mind racing faster than a mass relay in the span of a single second, she realizes that _oh,_ she loves Jaal Ama Darav too.

And Ryder’s never been a poet, never learned how to bend words into the right shapes, never tried to make sentences and prose flow like water, but now, as she takes in everything that Jaal says, she thinks she might try to be one for Jaal, the poet inside the technician. For the beauty blooming inside his heart that beats more steady than clockwork, for the words he tells her so simply and easily, as if they were truth, _because_ they _were_ truth to him.

She leans in close, and in a voice that trembles at the edges, Sara tells him in one aching breath, _“Yes.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been a while since i've updated because 1. i've moved across the country and 2. i've been adjusting to life and classes and all that. i've been building up to this moment for a while though, and it was satisfying to finally cap off some things i've been saving in the story. hope you enjoy the update, and i'll do my best to write the next chapter soon. also, thank you so much for all the kind comments. they kept me going and gave me enough motivation to finally finish this chapter! much appreciated <3


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